#elain is a healer

[lorcandidlucienwill]

Do you guys ever have an idea that’s so obviously canon to you based on what has been written that you forget that it’s not technically explicitly canon?

#lucien has whipping scars #eris has back scars from beron #tamlin and rhysand are ex lovers #tamlin looks just like his father but has his mama's eyes #gwyn and azriel are mates #lucien will become high lord or high king #nesta is more powerful than rhys #tamlin has DID #tamsand #cassian is in love with mor #elain is a healer

[wingedblooms]

Bright as the dawn

This meta is a continuation of Forbidden secrets and Blooming dreams, as it explores how Elain—glowing with the dawn—might restore the land and Cauldron, and has major spoilers for hofas. Please avoid if needed.

Long ago, Wyrd (Mother/Cauldron/Fate/Chaos) was once bound to the soul of Prythian’s world. She was pure, undiluted life until she was warped into a tool of destruction by the Asteri, imbued with their magic through, theoretically, the Void in the Book of Breathings. They claimed the magic of the land (most likely using ley lines, which seem to be the threads or veins of the land’s soul) to hide magic that would sustain them, much like how the Starborn daughters hid pieces of magic in the land where the ley lines—the fabric of the world—wove together, overlapping like a braid in a larger tapestry.

As we saw in the prophetic weaver scene with Feyre and Elain in acofas, iridescent light—embodying Hope—is the only light that can pierce the Void. We may see Elain and Azriel wield these elements through Truth-Teller and Gwydion to unmake the Asteri’s magical chains on the land and/or Wyrd, but I have also wondered if Elain herself, or in combination with someone else’s raw magic as @offtorivendell so beautifully wrote in her Dusk meta, could heal and unheal, make and unmake.

If Elain and Azriel address the land and Wyrd plot Sarah has set up, then I could see them mapping the secrets of the land and releasing the sacred peaks first, which might affect what many of us suspect is Elain’s pure, natural magic that mirrors the Wyrd and her land: Life itself. These challenges may help her level up as @willowmeres has suggested, and will teach her what she needs to know to unbind and restore Wyrd, which is likely to be more complex.

Wyrd was imbued with the Asteri’s magic, which in discussion with @silverlinedeyes, @psychee92, @cassianfanclub, @offtorivendell, and @psychologynerd at different points, reminded me of how the Valg imbued objects with their essence, and their essence was often described as a void.

It was a void. It was a new, dark hell.

Her magic had been a pulsing star that flared against the wall that the darkness had crafted between the top of his spine and the rest of it. She knew—knew without testing—that if she bypassed it, jumped right to the base of his spine … it would find her there, too. (tod)

The Asteri, like the Valg, devour light (life) like the Void in that weaver’s tapestry. It’s probably no coincidence that the Book of Breathings is made of two halves: Chaos and Void. Void may have very well been added by the Asteri to control the magic they imbued in Urd, and what was left behind might even be feeding off of the living half, Chaos (Wyrd). It may not be a matter of solely unbinding the two halves of the book.

Some wounds—like those inflicted by creatures of the Void—require the healer to walk the road with the patient.

If she could even find a way to help him. She’d promised to heal him, and though some injuries required the healer to walk the road with their patient, this injury of his— (tod)

Yrene learns how to destroy the Void by walking this road with Chaol, and I imagine something similar will be required of Elain. Yrene must tread where she fears to go most. In each big healing scene, she travels to the very core—or root—of the wound and uses her pure, undiluted powers of life to unbind her patient from the Valg and unmake the rotting void within them. She connects with them in body and soul, just like Elain might with Wyrd through her sight. Elain will also likely need to tread where she fears most to go, descending into Wyrd (magically and/or physically) to where the dark void festers.

And since this is no small feat, I imagine it rivaling the unmaking of Erawan:

Erawan panted as he approached. “Healer,” he breathed, his unholy power emanating from him like a black aura.

She backed away a step, closer to the balcony rail.

The dark king followed her, a predator closing in on long-awaited prey. “Do you know how long I have looked for you?” The wind tossed his golden hair.

“Do you even know what you can do?”

She hesitated, slamming into the balcony rail behind her, the drop so hideously endless.

“How do you think we took the keys in the first place?” A hateful, horrible smile. “In my world, your kind exists, too. Not healers to us, but executioners. Death-maidens. Capable of healing—but also unhealing. Unbinding the very fabric of life. Of worlds.” Erawan smirked. “So we took your kind. Used them to unbind the Wyrdgate. To rip the three pieces of it from its very essence. Maeve never learned it—and never shall.” His jagged breathing deepened as he savored each word, each step closer. “It took all of them to hew the keys from the gate—every one of the healers amongst my kind. But you, with your gifts—it would only take you to do it again. And with the keys now returned to the gate …” Another smile. “Maeve thinks I left to kill you, destroy you. Your little fire-queen thought so, too. She could not conceive that I wanted to find you. Before Maeve. Before any harm could come to you. And now that I have … What fun you and I shall have, Yrene Towers.”

Erawan reveals that Yrene, as a healer with raw magic, can unbind the very fabric of life, of worlds. If Elain was given the vision and gifts (such powers) to restore the land and Wyrd, as many of us suspect, she is going to need to unmake the magic of the parasite Asteri and unbind Urd from the soul, or fabric, of the world.

[…] Erawan’s power swelled, but Yrene was already glowing, bright as the far-off dawn.

Lysandra opened her talons, delicately dropping Yrene to the balcony stones, light streaming off her as she sprinted headfirst to Erawan.

[…]

Erawan screamed. But the sound was nothing compared to what came out of him as Yrene reached him, hands like burning stars, and slammed them upon his chest.

The world slowed and warped.

Yet Yrene was not afraid.

Not afraid at all of the blinding white light that erupted from her, searing into Erawan.

He arched, shrieking, but Damaris held him down, that ancient blade unwavering.

His dark power rose, a wave to devour the world.

[…]

Yrene did not let it touch her. Touch any of them.

Hope.

It was hope that Chaol had said she carried with her. Hope that now grew in her womb.

For a better future. For a free world.

[…]

The gods might have been gone, Silba with them, but Yrene could have sworn she felt those warm, gentle hands guiding her. Pushing upon Erawan’s chest as he thrashed, the force of a thousand dark suns trying to rip her apart.

Her power tore through them all.

Tore and shredded and ripped into him, into the writhing worm that lay inside.

The parasite. The infection that fed on life, on strength, on joy.

Distantly, far away, Yrene knew she was incandescent with light, brighter than a noontime sun. Knew that the dark king beneath her was nothing more than a writhing pit of snakes, biting at her, trying to poison her light.

You have no power over me, Yrene said to him. Into the body that housed that parasite of parasites.

I shall rip you apart, he hissed. Starting with that babe in your—

A thought and Yrene’s power flared brighter. Erawan screamed.

The power of creation and destruction. That’s what lay within her.

Life-Giver. World-Maker.

Bit by bit, she burned him up. Starting at his limbs, working inward.

Yrene glows bright as the far-off dawn, which reminded me of Elain glowing like the sun at dawn when her hair is unbound. This very subtle detail is one of many that might make Elain’s journey unique—her gifts seem to be deeply connected, or bound if you will, to both the land and Wyrd. I believe her journey might mirror the unbinding of the land and Wyrd: her powers fully blooming as the land does around her, and a bond she does not want unmade by the end. She is bound to Lucien against her will, just as he is to her, so will she unbind them by unraveling Urd’s unnatural chains? Will she feel a bond that is true in spirit at her core, or will she need to make her own with Azriel? A maker of her own fate. There are so many interesting possibilities that could be explored in their book.

And like the near-twin to her sister, Elain might possess pure, undiluted life like Yrene, allowing her to tear out void like the invasive presence it is.

And when her magic began to slow, Yrene held out a hand.

She didn’t feel the sting of her palm cutting open. Barely felt the pressure of the callused hand that linked with hers.

But when Dorian Havilliard’s raw magic barreled into her, Yrene gasped.

Gasped and turned into starlight, into warmth and strength and joy.

[…]

Yrene’s power was life itself. Pure, undiluted life. It nearly brought Dorian to his knees as it met with his own. As he handed over his power to her, willingly and gladly, Erawan prostrate before them. Impaled.

The demon king screamed.

[…]

Erawan could do nothing. Nothing against that raw magic, joining with Yrene’s, weaving into that world-making power.

The entire city, the plain, became blindingly bright. So bright that Elide and Lysandra shielded their eyes. Even Dorian shut his.

But Yrene saw it then. What lay at Erawan’s core.

The twisted, hateful creature inside. Old and seething, pale as death. Pale, from an eternity in darkness so complete it had never seen sunlight.

Had never seen her light, which now scalded his moon-white, ancient flesh.

Erawan writhed, contorting on the ground of whatever this place was inside him.

Pathetic, Yrene simply said.

[…]

And it was with the image of her mother still shining before him, showing him that mistake he’d never known he made, that Yrene clenched her fingers into a fist.

Erawan screamed.

Yrene’s fingers clenched tighter, and distantly, she felt her physical hand doing the same. Felt the sting of her nails cutting into her palms.

She did not listen to Erawan’s pleas. His threats.

She only tightened her fist. More and more.

Until he was nothing but a dark flame within it.

Until she squeezed her fist, one final time, and that dark flame snuffed out.

Yrene had the feeling of falling, of tumbling back into herself. And she was indeed falling, rocking back into Lysandra’s furry body, her hand slipping from Dorian’s. (koa)

When she is done, Yrene falls, tumbles back into herself like someone with the gift of sight. Elain’s sight is probably more extensive, but I think it’ll look very similar—part of her there, part of her deep within Wyrd (the Cauldron). And even with the vision and gifts Urd gave her, Elain will probably need help. Will she combine her raw magic with Azriel, like Yrene does with Dorian? Or her sisters like @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, and I (as well as others I’m sure) have discussed? Or even in some kind of dawn ritual where priestesses, like healers, create a living chain of blooming life to ground and amplify her magic? I don’t know what I would love more, honestly.

Once the magic of the Asteri is unmade and Wyrd is unbound, I hope there is a scene where we finally see the goddess through Elain’s eyes, and Elain—like the calm and loving and resilient stag in this Fantasia sequence—reaches out her hand, lifts her up and out of the place that once chained her to the Void, and lets her power, pure and natural, flow through her before it rushes into the soul of the land, which can now rejoice with her freely.

#hofas spoilers #elain archeron #healer of the land and urd #mother cauldron fate #stone mother #bright as the dawn #her journey mirrors the land and goddess #mother incarnate #elriel #elain x azriel #archeron sisters #prythian priestesses #living chain of life

[thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid]

Elain fixes wings

Emerie takes her to fly

Great success

#rowan’s art #acotar #elain archeron #elain acotar #elain x emerie #elrarie #emlain #emerie #emerie of illyria #emerie acotar #I’m just thinking of writing them again #but idk where #might just jump to them finally meeting and figure out how I get there later #anyway #elain becomes a world renowned healer #visits Illyria #begins healing the females wings #becomes dusk court along with hewn city

[incorrectacotarwords]

Lucien: *burst into the healer room* Come quick! Elain has fainted and she’s bleeding from her nose!

Healer: Oh no! Is everything okay??

Lucien: *mumbles*

Healer: Sorry sir, I’m going to need you to speak up. What happened??

Lucien: …I put on my fox mask

#incorrect acotar words #incorrect acotar quotes #incorrect acotar #incorrect quotes #elain x lucien #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien vandaddy #acotar #lucien acotar #elain acotar #source: pinterest #elain is the one that’s the healer #I don’t think Lucien has healing powers unfortunately #imagine your otp #healer acotar #i’m laughing but also crying #bc I can see it #poor Lucien #nosebleed

[rarephloxes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra Characters: Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron, Nesta Archeron, Cassian (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Azriel (A Court of Thorns and Roses) Additional Tags: Healer!Elain, post acomaf, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, just as much dissociating I put into writing, SO PROUD OF MYSELF FOR THIS BREAKTHROUGH MOMENT, is it really Elucien without gut wrenching angst, putting Elain through it SORRY, ill make up for it I promise :), Canon-Typical Violence, a tiny bit of medical gore, I mean war injuries and stuff like that, one hundred per cent inspired by a Taylor Swift lyric, what can I say a love allegories and telling imagery and SIGNS Summary:

As Elain struggles to embrace her new body after being drowned in the Cauldron for political purposes she has never been privy to, she undertakes the gruesome journey to dissociate herself from whomever she has ever been or could ever become, Elain feels ready to do what it takes to quiet her mind and dull her senses. In her haste and need to flee while staying inside, she finds herself drawn to knowledge that will change the course of her destiny.

-

Or: The Healer!Elain fic

#Elucien #Elucien fic #Elucien fanfiction #healer!elain #ao3 fic #very proud of this one #more Lucien to come I promise!!! #acotar #acotar fic #Lucien vanserra #Elain vanserra #Elain Archeron #elain centric #growth and magic #etc etc

[starryhiraeth]

Heal me pt2

Warning?: lol Just Az about to pop a blood vessel mostly. Also baby nyx having a breakdown

Pt1

In the morning you woke up in a field.

A FIELD.

Mascara running down your face and lipstick smudged, surrounded by your friends who were also asleep on the hard ground.

“Crap”

Meanwhile back in Velaris

“She just disappeared?!” Azriel yelled

Madja was trying to keep it together but in reality she was terrified for you,her Daughter,adopted or not

Nyx was crying

“She’s gooooooooone,who I I marry nooooooooow?!” He wailed

Elain stood up and picked nyx up from the floor

“I’ll just take him outside” she said

“You lost my Y/NNNNNNNN” his tiny voice cried out as his voice disappeared down the hall as elain tried to shush him

“What If something happens to her” Madja speaks up,worried and angry

“Nothing will,we will find her,this i swear” Rhys declares

“Rhys stop trying to be a superhero and let’s go find her” Nesta sassed,walking out the door to find you

So they all went out searching for you… for 5 hours

And Azriel was going insane.

His head was running a million miles a second after 4 hours they all met up again to discuss a plan

“It’s unlikely she just got lost,she’s been missing since last night and the first 24 hours are the most important…”

Blah blah blah

It was all drowned out,Azriel needed to find you and sitting in this Damn chair talking about a plan,isn’t going to find you

Enough was enough,

He could hardly breathe

His hand hit the table in rage as he stood up,storming out of the room

“Fuck this” he yelled,his Mate needed him

“Azriel sit down-” Feyre tried calming him down

“NO! This isn’t helping find her!” He yelled

“Look,I know your worried but-” Rhys started

“You don’t know anything Rhys” he muttered,about the walk out of the room

“I know she’s your mate!” Rhys called out and Feyre cringed

“What?”

“You’ve been acting out-”

“You looked inside my head Rhys?!” Az yelled

“Your not exactly good at hiding your thoughts when it comes to her” Rhys stated

Azriel stormed out.

Sure he could argue with Rhys and Feyre about invading his privacy and announcing it to everyone else but that wouldn’t help save you

And that was his main priority. From now till forever.

The field

You sat there in the sunny field.

Bored.out of.your damn.MIND.

You were the first one to wake up,you looked over to your friends

Their not dead are they

You thought and you poked them,

They all started to slowly wake up all in as bad a state,or worse than you

And yet your best friend Keira looked at you up and down

“You look like a cat coughed your ass up”

She stated

“Says you”

You friend back

“Are we in a field?!” Your other friends called out

“Yep…”

A Damn field…

A bit short but it’s like 1:23AM where I am so I’ll post more soon

-Issy ❤️

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel x reader #rhysand #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #healer #hangover

[redbleedingrose]

Always Masterlist ~ Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 

Part 6

Part 7 

Epilogue Part 1

Epilogue Part 2

A/N: the long awaited updated masterlist for Always. It seems as though this fic has been rediscovered and I am sooo happy and excited for you all to read it. It was my first ever fic and the comments and reblogs kept me going, please keep me updated on how you all like it. I still have some extra fluff pieces to write for this series. Love yall sm! <3

#azriel x reader #always #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel x reader fanfic #azriel x y/n #rose writes #azriel acotar fanfic #azriel angst #completed

[parkerslatte]

Drawn To You

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: none.

Summary: When Y/N met Azriel, she felt the mating bond snap into place. The only issue is that he seems happy with Elain so Y/N tries her best to stay out of his way no matter how much it hurts her.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Y/N met Azriel, she felt it. The feeling she had wanted to feel for a long time. In her nearly six hundred years of living, Y/N had given up the hope that she would ever meet her mate. She probably didn’t even have one, and she had come to accept that. Until the shadowsinger appeared. 

After seeking her out to help heal the general, Rhysand had called on Y/N whenever Madja was unavailable. At first Y/N hadn’t minded, she enjoyed being around everyone as they slowly began to invite her on nights out. Y/N felt herself becoming friends with them, or as close to friends as she could. 

It wasn’t until one night when the shadowsinger appeared from a long mission that Y/N felt it. 

***

Y/N sipped her wine as she seated herself next to Mor. The blonde moving to top her wine up despite Y/N not even being finished with the glass she already had. Y/N didn’t talk much while everyone was in a large group. She preferred to simply listen and pitch in wherever it felt appropriate. Even though she had been hanging around the Inner Circle for a couple of months now, she still felt like she couldn’t join in with much of the teasing and joking around. 

Everyone’s attention diverted to where the doors of the room opened and the shadowsinger stood in the threshold. He looked exhausted though happy to see his family. As everyone rose to greet him, Y/N remained in her seat, she didn’t want to impose. 

Y/N’s eyes gazed down at her now too-full glass of wine before lifting it up and took a long sip, not noticing everyone taking their places back on the couches. 

“We haven’t met before,” Azriel spoke to Y/N. 

Y/N nearly spilt her wine, surprised by someone standing so close and speaking to her. She still thought everyone was gathered by the door. 

With a nod of her head, Y/N looked up to where Azriel was standing. He looked almost angelic as the light from the chandelier shone from behind him, giving him a halo of light. Which Y/N thought was ironic considering he was the shadowsinger. 

But that was the moment she felt it. The bond snapped into place. Y/N nearly split her wine again. 

“No, no, we haven’t,” Y/N said. “I’m Y/N. I’m a healer.”

It was obvious that the bond hadn’t snapped for Azriel as he only gave her a small nod and took a seat next to her on the couch. Y/N tried to ignore it but she couldn’t, the feeling grew across her entire body, especially since Azriel was sitting so close to her. 

“Where are Feyre, Elain and Nesta?” Azriel asked, looking around the group, noticing the absence of the High Lady and her two sisters. 

“A sisterly night at Rita’s,” Rhysand answered, leaning back in his chair. 

Azriel only nodded and sipped the drink that Cassian had thrust in his hand. 

Y/N was still staring at her drink, she hadn’t tried to join in the conversation, nor did she even listen. Her mate was sitting next to her and she couldn’t believe anything was real anymore. The dress she wore seemed to cling to her skin and suffocate her. She craved fresh air. 

After playing her glass of wine on the table, Y/N rose to her feet causing attention to divert to her. 

“I’m going to go home,” Y/N announced. 

More reached out and clutched her hand. “Why? You haven’t finished your wine.”

“I’m just tired,” Y/N lied and hoped that no one would be able to pick up on it. “I’ll see you all soon.”

Without another word, Y/N began to walk out of the room. She felt a scratch down her mental shields but she didn’t allow Rhys in, afraid that she would accidentally let him know what she knew. And she wasn’t ready for that. 

The air was cold and Y/N tried to wrap her arms around herself for warmth but it was futile. Her pace quickened as she walked down the empty street. Y/N’s flat wasn’t too far away but with no one else around and only the sound of the wind howling, it made the walk much longer than it normally was. 

“They were worried about you,” Azriel said as he soundlessly approached Y/N.

Y/N jumped at the presence of the shadowsinger. “Azriel! What are you doing here?”

“Rhys asked me to walk you home,” Azriel said, folding his hands behind his back. 

Y/N didn’t want him to walk her home. Just being near him made her heart race. If he questioned it she could easily blame it on the fright he gave her but not for too long. 

“I don’t need anyone to accompany me,” Y/N mumbled. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Is that why you missed the turning to your street?” Azriel asked.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks and looked around. There was a reason why the walk seemed to be taking longer than usual and it wasn’t just the silence or wind. It was because she had been so distracted that she had completely missed the street she lived down and continued further into the city. 

“I was just taking the long way,” Y/N said, holding her head high as she turned around and began to walk back the way she came. 

Azriel let out what sounded like a quiet laugh. It caused Y/N’s heart to flutter. She needed to get away from Azriel as soon as possible. 

“You can return to the other’s,” Y/N said. “I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“That can wait until tomorrow,” Azriel replied, walking side by side with her. “My priority now is getting you home safe.”

Y/N sighed and turned to look up at Azriel. Which was a mistake as he was looking down at her. “I’m not winning this, am I?”

Azriel shook his head, a hint of a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “Not in a million years.”

Y/N huffed in amusement. “Stubborn male.”

There was amusement shining in Azriel’s eyes and Y/N had to tear her gaze away. Being alone to process that she had a mate was what she needed, having Azriel standing right beside her wasn’t helping her in any way. However she knew that no matter what she said, he wouldn’t leave her until she was safely at her doorstep. Every time Y/N quickened her pace, Azriel did. Every time she slowed down, Azriel did the same. 

“I only live at the end of the street,” Y/N spoke up. “I am fine to get home alone.”

“Rhys ordered me to bring you to your doorstep,” Azriel replied. 

“You really don’t need to,” Y/N said. 

“They were quite worried about you when you abruptly left,” Azriel said, repeating the words he said when he first made himself known. “They said that it was out of character for you.”

“How would they know? They’ve only known me for a couple of months.” The words were harsher than Y/N originally intended and she was mortified speaking about the group in such a way when all they had shown her was kindness.

Azriel wasn’t phased as he continued. “A couple of months can still be a good judge of character. Even I believe that it seemed out of character for you and I’ve known you for barely ten minutes.”

Y/N rubbed her upper arms. “I am just tired tonight.”

Azriel looked as if he didn’t believe her but didn’t push.

Y/N’s gaze was fixated on the cobblestone ground as she walked.The cold temperature made her shiver as she walked, making the hair on her arms stand on end. Though she wasn’t sure if that was from the cold or was because of Azriel. 

Before Y/N could continue to shiver in the plummeting temperature, warmth encased her as Azriel’s wing wrapped around her. Y/N glanced up at Azriel who didn’t even look at her as the two continued to walk. Y/N now stood even closer to Azriel than she wanted but she was thankful for the warmth he provided. 

“I live just up there,” Y/N pointed out and Azriel simply nodded. “Thank you for walking me home. Even if you didn’t need to.”

Azriel tucked his wing back and Y/N immediately missed its warmth. “It was no problem.”

Y/N tilted her head up to face him. He looked tired when she had first seen him but now he truly looked as if he were about to pass out on his feet. There were dark circles under his eyes now more visible in the light from the streetlamps outside of her home. 

“I suggest that you rest for a while,” Y/N said. “You look as if you are about to pass out on my doorstep.”

Azriel tried to suppress a yawn but failed. He gave Y/N a shy smile. “I think you may be right.” 

Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. Despite her wanting to originally leave the house to escape him, she now couldn’t find it within herself to let him leave. Azriel didn’t move from his position in front of her, he didn’t make the move to leave. 

“Do you want to stay? I have a spare room you can stay in.” Y/N blurted out. “You did go out of your way to walk me home and you simply look exhausted, it is honestly the least I can do. I also don’t want to be responsible for falling from the sky because you passed out.”

Y/N fiddled with the rings on her fingers and avoided eye contact with Azriel, missing the smile that appeared on his face. 

“Thank you,” Azriel said sincerely. “I appreciate your offer.”

Y/N quickly glanced up at him before unlocking her front door. “The spare bedroom is just down the hall. The bathroom is the door next to it, feel free to use whatever in there you wish.”

Azriel thanked her once more before following her directions down the hall and entered the bedroom. He did not exit again. 

Y/N made her way to her own bedroom and flopped down on the bed. Her mate was sleeping just a few doors down from her. Her mate. Never in her entire existence did Y/N think she would have a mate and he had just walked into her life so casually. She was unsure of how to process it. The bond clearly hadn’t snapped for Azriel and Y/N didn’t exactly want to bring it up to him as they had only just met. Although she did invite him into her house. 

Y/N sighed and slipped out of her dress and pulled on her nightgown and climbed under the covers. She closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. Y/N laid awake basically all night. 

***

Azriel was gone by the time Y/N woke in the morning. He had left a note with a small cake from the bakery down the street. Y/N’s heart swelled at the thought of him even writing a note to thank her and because he had left to get her a cake and came back to the house to leave it on a small plate from her kitchen. He already wasn’t making it easy for her to process everything. 

Y/N had already decided to have a relaxing day to herself. There was a book Nesta had given her that she wanted to read and the day was perfect for it. She settled into her armchair and draped her blanket across her knees when she felt the tap against her mental shields. With a sigh, Y/N lowered them. 

What do you want, Rhys?

Elain was hurt while she was in the garden. 

Is she okay?

She seems to be but the cut is quite deep. 

Y/N sighed. I’ll be there soon.

***

Y/N stood before Elain and inspected the cut on the back of her hand. It was deep and parts of the thorn had seemed to be trapped inside the cut. Elain winced whenever Y/N pulled a piece out. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N muttered. “There’s just a few more pieces before I can heal the cut over.”

Elain nodded as Y/N picked out the other thorns and wiped them onto a tissue next to her. 

“Rhys mentioned that you left early last night,” Elain said. 

Y/N sighed. “Did he tell everyone?”

“He just wanted to know if you were okay,” Elain said. “And so do I. It’s unlike you to abruptly leave somewhere.”

Y/N had become close friends with the middle Archeron sister. When Y/N didn’t have anything to do, she would normally sit with Elain in her garden and talk. It was nice having a friend. Y/N had never been too close with anyone before, preferring her own company over a large group. 

“I was just tired,” Y/N said. “I just wanted to lie down and sleep.”

Elain’s gaze lifted to meet Y/N’s, her eyes calculating, deciding whether to believe her or not. “If anything is going on,you can tell me.You are my friend.”

“Elain!” A voice interrupted anything Y/N was going to say. 

Azriel came around the corner and halted once he noticed Y/N sitting with Elain. “Y/N? I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Rhys asked me to take a look at Elain’s hand,” Y/N said, trying to stop her racing heart.

“What happened?” Azriel asked, walking further into the room.

“I just cut it on a thorn in the garden,” Elain answered. “It’s nothing too bad.”

Azriel came closer until he sat down in the seat next to Y/N. She tried her best to block him out but it was hard. 

“That is the last thorn out,” Y/N said and wiped it on the tissue. 

Y/N held Elain’s hand in between hers. “You might feel a small sting but nothing too bad.”

Y/N closed her eyes and let her power shine, quite literally. A golden glow emitted from between Y/N’s fingers as she healed Elain’s hand. She could feel her power flowing into the cut and weaving the skin back together. 

Both Azriel and Elain watched in amazement as the glow died down and Y/N pulled her hands away. All that remained of the cut was a thin red line.

“That should fade within the next few days,” Y/N said, gently running her finger across the newly healed cut. 

“That’s amazing!” Elain said, admiring the healed injury. 

Y/N smiled. “It truly is a gift I am grateful to possess.”

“Does it hurt anymore?” Azriel asked, looking from Elain’s eyes and back to her cut. 

Elain flexed her hand. “No, it doesn’t. Thank you, Y/N.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Y/N replied and leaned back in her chair, her arm lightly brushing Azriel’s, who still hadn’t taken his eyes from Elain. 

“Is there something you wanted, Azriel?” Elain questioned. 

Azriel looked startled for a brief moment but it was hardly noticeable. Y/N only noticed as she was sitting so close to him. 

“I just… wanted to make sure you were okay,” Azriel said. “Rhys told me what happened.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you,” Elain said with a small smile. “I am quite all right now, thanks to Y/N.”

Y/N suddenly felt like she was interrupting something. Clearing her throat, she stood up. “If I’m no longer needed, I’m going to leave. I was in the middle of something when Rhys summoned me here.”

Azriel didn’t tear his gaze away from Elain as Y/N bid them goodbye and it made Y/N’s heart fall the smallest amount. Once she was a safe distance away, Y/N let out a sigh. 

The way Azriel looked at Elain and the way he came rushing when he was told she was injured communicated enough to Y/N. Elain was her friend and she wasn’t going to stand in the middle of her and Azriel. Even though it pained Y/N. She had finally met her mate and he was already taken with another. 

Y/N dragged her feet all the way back to her home.

***

The next few weeks were torture for Y/N. As much as she tried to avoid Azriel, he always seemed to appear. The first few times, Y/N had genuine excuses to not talk to him. But the more he appeared the more she was running out of them and the more ridiculous they became. 

Staying away from Azriel had become a task that pained Y/N the more and more she did it. Azriel would always go out of his way to talk to her whenever the entire Inner Circle were together and Y/N was only happily listening in. When she was treating injuries, he would appear with her favourite dessert from the bakery near her home. 

Everything he did made it hurt her more whenever she would see him with Elain. They would be talking in hushed voices that would instantly stop whenever Y/N walked into the room, interrupting whatever lovers' conversation they were having. She would always notice the small glances Azriel and Elain would send each other. It became hard to be around them. 

Y/N and Azriel were sitting together in Elain’s garden. No one else was around and Y/N wished that they were. Her heart was beating rapidly once more, Azriel had to surely pick up on it. Every time she was around him, her own body seemed to betray her. 

“I should get going,” Y/N said. 

“You always do this,” Azriel said and Y/N stilled.

“Do what?” Y/N questioned.

“Whenever we are alone together you find an excuse to leave,” Azriel said. “Do you not want to be around me or something?”

“No, it’s not that–”

“Then what is it?” 

Y/N stuttered over her words trying to find an answer. “I-I can’t tell you.”

Azriel scoffed. “I have been trying to get to know you Y/N, I have been going out of my way to talk to you and get to know you and you shoot me down every single time. Tell me why.”

“Azriel,” Y/N said softly. “I can’t. If you were in my position you would understand.”

“Then tell me,” Azriel said standing up,his voice rising in volume. “Tell me so I can understand. And don’t you dare say that you can’t.”

“If you were in my position and your mate was clearly in love with someone else then you wouldn’t stand in the way of that either.” Y/N snapped. 

Azriel stilled. “Mate? You are my mate?”

Y/N shook her head before stepping around Azriel. “I didn’t want to tell you Azriel. I didn’t want to ruin anything between you and Elain. It hasn’t snapped for you yet so you can just pretend this conversation never happened.”

“Y/N–” Azriel reached out his hand but Y/N stepped away and didn’t turn around again. 

***

Azriel was still in the garden when Elain returned. He sat back in the chair and was staring ahead.

“Where did Y/N go?” Elain questioned. “Did you finally tell her?”

Azriel finally looked to Elain, there were unshed tears in his eyes and Elain’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” Elain asked. 

“She’s my mate,” Azriel said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Elain smiled. “That’s a good thing, it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Azriel shook his head. “She thinks that I am in love with you.”

“Oh,” Elain said. “Did you tell her that she is sorely mistaken?”

“She didn’t give me a chance,” Azriel said. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

Elain reached out and took Azriel’s hand and held it between hers. “Azriel, I have listened for weeks about you talking about her and how beautiful she is. I am not going to let you sit here and let her leave over some silly misunderstanding. Go and talk to her.”

Azriel stood from the chair and bolted from the garden.

***

Y/N closed the door to her home and sat down on the couch, taking off her shoes. She didn’t want to ever see Azriel again. There was a pain deep within her chest that she couldn’t get rid of. No matter how much Y/N had tried to ignore the bond, she was always drawn to Azriel. He was constantly on her mind and she wanted to be near him. 

Y/N thought it would have been easy to avoid him. Being the shadowsinger, he had responsibilities that sometimes took him on long missions but ever since he had returned from his last one, Azriel hadn’t left the Night Court not even once. Every time he appeared with a new gift for her, she felt the bond pulling her to him tighten even more. But it wasn’t only the bond that made her feel the way she was. It was genuine feelings for him that made her feel the way she was. She was falling for the shadowsinger. 

A knock on the door interrupted Y/N’s thoughts. She had an inkling to who stood on the other side. Y/N opened the door and her suspicions remained true.

“What are you doing here, Azriel?” Y/N asked. 

Azriel stepped into her home and dragged his fingers through his hair. “You are my mate.”

Y/N sighed. “Yes I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azriel said. 

“Because,” Y/N began. “You feel something for Elain and she is my friend so I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.”

Azriel shook his head and took a step toward Y/N. “I don’t feel anything for Elain. I won’t lie to you and say that I haven’t ever felt anything for her, I used to. But I haven’t felt that way about her for years.”

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because,” Azriel said, lifting his hand to gently cup Y/N’s cheek. “You need to know that when I came into that room when you were healing Elain’s hand, I wanted to speak to her about you. I wanted to know everything about you after the night I met you. She told me your favourite dessert, your favourite flower, told me about you and what you did to help my brother when he was hurt.”

“I have wanted a mate for a long time,” Azriel continued. “And when I met you, I hoped it would be you. When I walked you home that night, Rhys never asked me to. I did it out of my own free will. I felt a pull toward you that I couldn’t explain. It’s why I went to Elain to know more about you. And the more I knew about you, the more I began to fall for you.”

Y/N closed her eyes and leaned into Azriel’s touch. She felt stupid, so utterly stupid. 

“The bond snapped for me the moment I saw you,” Y/N said. “I never thought that I would have a mate. I am nearly six hundred and I had given up hope. It scared me and confused me at first but the more I spoke to you and the way you genuinely got to know me, knowing that the bond hadn’t snapped for you. I began to fall for you as well.” 

Azriel leaned his forehead against Y/N’s. 

And then he felt the snap. 

Y/N’s eyes opened, tears brimmed her eyes as she looked into Azriel’s. He smiled wide. 

“You don’t need to accept the bond right now,” Y/N said. “We can get the time to know each other better. After all, I was actively trying to avoid you.

Azriel let out a chuckle and leaned forward. “Out of respect for your friend. That says a lot more about you than you think. I will accept the bond because from what everyone has said about you, I would want no one else as my mate than you. You are perfect.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself but smile. “So are you, Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips brushed hers as he pulled her closer. “I am looking forward to spending my life with you.”

“And I am looking forward to spending my life with you too, shadowsinger.”

Azriel smiled before capturing Y/N’s lips in a sweet kiss.

#azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Fix You (Azriel x healer!reader)

summary: Azriel falls for the healer and finds new random reasons to see her, but he never let’s her help when he’s truly hurt.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: warnings: mentions injuries and blood

Never in a million years would you have dreamed of such an opportunity presenting itself to you, but after the battle of Velaris, your healing magic became rather well known among the locals. Eventually, word of your abilities reached the high lord, and he requested to meet with you. Now, ten months later, you are learning about tonics, salves, the anatomy of illyrian wings, and so much more to use along side your magic.

“One last thing. Rhysand said that Azriel is requesting assistance. Could you go tend to his injuries before you go home?”

You hide your laugh and agree to go. This is the fifth time this month that Azriel has requested a healer. It would make sense that the spymaster of the night court would need healing after missions, but he never asks for help with that. Most recently, he came by the infirmary to ask you for a cream that will help with sore muscles. Sometimes he asks for healing after training when Cassian roughs him up a bit too much, but even then, its minor injuries. One time he even used Cassian as an excuse, claiming the general needed some medicine for a cold, but later that day Cassian seemed perfectly fine to you.

Your friends think Azriel must have a crush on you and that’s why he always seeks you out, but that’s crazy. And besides, you heard a rumor that he has feelings for the high lady’s sister, Elain. But who could blame him, she's perfect.

You arrive at the House of Wind and head for the shadowsinger’s room. The house was quiet, meaning Cassian and Nesta must be gone. As you walk towards his room, you see a shadow dart across the floor, brushing against your ankle as it flies by and making you giggle. Before you can even knock, Azriel opens his door, apparently alerted by the shadow.

“Good evening. You requested a healer?” He nods and opens the door wider to invite you in and sits on the corner of his bed.

“Cassian accidentally cut me with his sword when we were sparring this morning. The skin has healed, but it’s still hurting. I figured you could use some of that fancy healing magic on it so I’m not slacking at training tomorrow.” He extends his arm, and just like he said, theres a jagged pink scar running up the length of his tan, muscular forearm.

You agree and sit next to him, taking hold of his arm and placing your hand over the scar. A warm sensation spreads from your palm to his arm, and moments later, the raised scar is nothing more than a faint line. You hold on for a few moments longer than necessary, your eyes fixated on his hands. There was something you found so beautiful and alluring about the scars, you didn’t even notice your fingertips slowly trailing towards his hands. As soon as your fingertips brush against the edge of the scarred skin, Azriel jerks his arm away and stands up.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you trail off.

“It’s fine.” He snaps, avoiding your gaze to look at the wall behind you. “Thanks for the help.” His voice is softer now, but you can tell he’s upset. You hesitate, trying to figure out how to resolve this uncomfortable situation, but inevitably, you decide it’s best to leave.

“Happy to help. Have a good night.” You leave quickly, trying to avoid making things more awkward.

The entire way home, you berate yourself for doing something so foolish. One of the first things you learned about healing is to not make your patient more uncomfortable when you heal them. And there you were, touching something that obviously would make him uncomfortable. You don’t know the details about how his hands got so scarred, but with his fae healing, it can’t have been pretty. It reminds you of a patient you had a few years back with similar burns. You were constantly making cream to soothe the residual pain for them. You wonder if Azriel’s hands still hurt from time to time…

———

Azriel’s POV

“Do you plan to injure yourself again during training today, brother?” Cassian teases. “I see yesterday’s cut has healed already. Did a certain healer come by your room last night?”

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” I say gruffly and continue eating my breakfast.

“Why won’t you just ask her out?” He speaks with a mouth full of food, earning an annoyed look from Nesta.

“Because there’s no way that someone like her… it doesn’t matter. I’m over her now. Moving on.” I keep my gaze locked on the plate in front of me.

Last night, I tried to work up the courage to say something—anything, really. But when she touched me and I felt that magic run through me, I couldn’t think of anything but how beautiful she looked. I can’t help but remember the feeling of her hands on me, warm and comforting. And then, when she touched my hand, every horrible thought and insecurity ran through my head. How could someone so perfect ever want to be with someone so… damaged?

That’s also why I never seek her out when I return from missions. I don’t want her to see who I really am when I leave Velaris. One look at me with enemy blood on my hands and my own blood on my body, and she will run scared just like everyone else does. I’m just not ready for that rejection yet.

“I don’t believe that for a damn second, Az. You’re just scared. Take a chance, it could work out.” Nesta tries to be supportive, but she doesn’t get it. None of my friends do. I pretend to agree, but only to end the conversation quicker and move on to a new topic. Cassian gives a skeptical look, but moves on to discussing the evening’s plans.

———

Your POV

Two weeks pass, and you haven’t seen or heard from Azriel. It shouldn’t bother you this much, but you can’t help but miss his occasional visits, the way his shadows swirl around your ankles, the sound of his voice, the way he towers over you. Maybe you should find a reason to visit him. After all, he’s spent months coming up with ridiculous reasons to see you, you can do the same, right?

You look around your workstation at the various creams, tonics, and salves, eventually finding some that he would maybe find useful. Heading to the House of Wind, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous.

When you arrive, you see the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, walking through the foyer. “Hello. I was wondering if you could help me find Azriel. I have something for him.” You try to sound confident, but her smirk tells you she sees right through you.

“He’s at the training ring. The Valkyries and I just finished training, so it’s probably just him and Cassian up there.” You thank her and head that way.

When you arrive at the training ring, you are immediately stopped in your tracks by the sight of Azriel and Cassian sparring. You had always known the general had a nice body; you had healed it several times before. But Azriel… you have never seen such a glorious sight. The way the corded muscles of his back ripple when he moves and the way his wings, which were much larger than Cassian’s, were spread wide, you couldn’t help but stare. Eventually, Cassian notices you. He smirked, and then immediately moved to disarm Azriel, nicking him with the tip of the blade.

“What the hell, Cass? Why did you-“ Azriel turns and sees you. He turns back to Cassian, who has a shit eating grin on his face.

“Good thing your favorite healer is here to help.” You can’t help but blush at his words. Did Azriel talk about you to Cassian? “I’ll leave you two to it.” He saunters off, leaving you alone with Azriel. Azriel stands quietly for a moment, just staring at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the silence is killing you, and it’s taking all of your strength to not stare at the sweat dripping down his muscular body.

“I brought you something. You had mentioned once that you get headaches a lot. I have this tonic that can help with that. I figured I would bring it by.” You awkwardly fumble through your bag for the bottle, handing it to him. He looks at the bottle, then at you, a confused expression on his face. “Did you want me to help with that cut or…” you trail off, unsure of how to proceed.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks. And thanks for the tonic. I’ll be sure to try it next time I get a headache.” He sits on a nearby bench, and you sit next to him. Reaching towards the cut, you realize you need to avoid what happened last time and ask for permission to touch him.

“May I?” He nods, and you place your hand over the small cut on his jaw. You feel his shadows swirling around your hand, almost curious about your actions. Your fingers trail over his sharp jaw line in admiration. “All done.” You stand and step away, waiting to see if he will say anything. You were about to leave, but you apparently can’t leave well enough alone, so you dig through your bag again.

“I have this other stuff you might want.” You find the soothing cream. “I had a patient a few years ago with burns similar to yours. She told me her scars would hurt occasionally, so I would make this cream for her. I don’t know if that happens to you as well, but if you want it, it’s yours.” You reach out to hand him the cream, but he just stares at you.

After a few moments, you awkwardly set it on the bench next to him. “Okay then. I’ll see you around.” You turn to leave, eager to end this train wreck of an interaction. You hurried out so quickly, that you didn’t hear the faint “thank you” coming from Azriel.

———

Several days pass without seeing Azriel. Gods, you were definitely so out of line with the cream. He probably doesn’t like to talk about the scars. You shouldn’t have gone to find him in the first place. He was obviously avoiding you. The bell above the door rings, indicating a patient has entered.

“One moment!” You call from the back of the workstation. When you make your way to the front room, you are surprised to see Azriel.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly.

“I’m sorry for my rude behavior the other day. I didn’t know how to respond to your kind gesture. No one has ever…” he trails off, setting the empty container of hand cream on the counter. “It helped a lot. I was wondering if you had any more?” Your face lights up, causing him to smile as well.

“Of course! Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” You rush excitedly to the storeroom. It was always such a wonderful feeling to help a patient feel better, but having been right about this made you feel so happy. You return with three containers of cream. “This one is the same as the one I gave you. This one is infused with lavender. And this one is infused with eucalyptus.” You explain excitedly. He chuckles at your eagerness.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know which smell I like best.” He smiles softly. “And thank you for before. For noticing. No one has ever taken notice like that before. People usually don’t like to even look at my hands, nonetheless, ask about it.” You blush.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the burns? It may help me formulate a more customized soothing cream for you in the future if I know how you got them. Only if you’re comfortable sharing.” Azriel sucks in a deep breath and looks at his hands.

“The details are… unpleasant.“ He hesitates. “Oil was poured over my hands and lit on fire. My bro-“ he pauses. “The people who did this ensured that I healed as they burned, so that the scarring was worse. Now I’m stuck with these ugly scars.” You try to hold back the tears in your eyes. How could somebody be so cruel and vicious as to do that to someone? “The pain is usually a sharp ache around my knuckles and fingers, if that helps.” He mutters quietly, avoiding your gaze. You hesitantly reach for his hand. He looks surprised by this, but lets you. You hold his large hand in both of yours and look deep into his eyes.

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. No one deserves such treatment. And your scars are not ugly, they represent what you have overcome.” Azriel blushes. A small shadow glides over your hands as you hold his, pulling a giggle from you. “The shadows are kinda cute.”

Azriel looks at you with surprise again. “Most people are afraid of them.” You watch a shadow weave between your fingers, letting go of Azriel’s hand to play with the shadow.

The two of you talk for a while longer before he eventually leaves. A smile stays on your face for the rest of the evening.

———

A week later.

You’re awoken late in the night by a chilly feeling across your skin. Assuming you forgot to shut your window, you groggily open your eyes to stand, but when you do, you see several shadows swirling around you and your room.

Panic immediately sets in. You have never seen Azriel’s shadows move in such a way, almost frantic. And the shadowsinger himself is nowhere near Velaris, supposedly on a mission, according to what Cassian said days ago. The shadows swirl around you, tugging you to stand. You throw on your coat and follow the shadows, praying to the gods that you don’t find what you think you will.

Upon arrival at the House of Wind, you hear panicked voices and yelling. You rush towards the commotion, finding a bloody mess when you arrive. You run towards Cassian and Nesta, trying to see what’s wrong, but when you look down, you see it.

Azriel. Covered in blood. Several arrows sticking out of his abdomen and wings, reeking of faebane. You immediately crouch and begin to inspect the damage.

“Cauldron, what happened? How long has he been hurt? Where is Madja?” You fire off a string of questions, not bothering to wait for an answer. Azriel groans in pain, barely conscious, with his eyes shut.

“He just winnowed here like this. We don’t know what happened, he pretty much passed out as soon as he got here.” Cassian looks at you nervously. “I tried to pull one of the arrows out, but the wounds won’t heal. The arrows are dipped in faebane.”

“Go get a bucket of water, a washcloth, and bandages.” You order to no one in particular before assessing the best plan for removal. When Nesta returns with the materials, you begin to remove the first arrow from his abdomen. Luckily, it didn’t hit any vital organs. When the arrow finally is removed, Azriel yells in pain.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just stay still and it will be over soon.” You try your best to use a soothing voice, but the shakiness is still evident. You get the second arrow out of his abdomen and begin to clean the wounds, working your healing magic as you go. Cassian and Nesta are standing over you, watching nervously, which only makes you more anxious.

“I got the worst of the injuries handled, he’s going to be fine. I still need to work on his wings, which may take a while and won’t be pretty. You two may want to go for now.” You say, not looking away from Azriel. Cassian and Nesta reluctantly leave, promising to return with the others in a bit.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.” You warn Azriel, who’s still unconscious, while you grip the arrow in his upper left wing and work to remove it. As soon as the arrow moves slightly through his wing, his eyes open wide and he howls in pain. He looks at you, just now noticing that it’s you tending to his injuries, and looks panicked.

“Wh-what… how are you here?” He rasps, wincing as the arrow is fully removed. He tries to sit up, but you force him to remain laying down.

“Your shadows found me. I figured you sent them.”

“No. They’re supposed to find Madja or Feyre if I get badly injured. I don’t know why they went to you.” He says gruffly. You try not to get upset by his words as you begin to stitch and heal the wound. Something about his demeanor is vastly different from how he usually acts, colder even.

"Well, you got me instead. Sorry to disappoint.” You mutter, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. You can tell he wants to say something else, but as soon as you grab ahold of the second arrow, all he can manage is groans and curses.

After you remove the third and final arrow, Azriel speaks. “You’re not supposed to be the one who handles my major injuries.” You can’t hide the pain in your eyes, so you look away to focus on working your healing magic on the final wound and bandaging it.

“I can handle more than basic tonics and minor injuries, you know.” You say quietly, cleaning away some of the blood with a washcloth. You gather the bloodied cloths and arrows, moving quickly to dispose of them.

“I know you can. I just don’t want-“ his words are cut short by the high lord rushing in, immediately requesting a status update. Azriel didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was about to say. He doesn’t want you here. You turn from Azriel to give Rhysand a full briefing on the injuries and the expected recovery process. After calming a bit, he begins to help Azriel up and to his room.

“It looks like you’re in good hands. I’m going to go update Madja on the situation so she can manage your recovery.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. Before he can say anything else, you’re gone.

———

You avoid Azriel for a couple weeks. Every time he tries to come to the infirmary, you send another healer to take care of him. You couldn’t help asking Madja how his recovery was progressing, but she refused to tell you, stating that you were perfectly capable of asking him yourself. You know that you aren’t as skilled as Madja in some aspects of being a healer, but you never thought that Azriel would doubt your abilities. You guess that’s why he never asked for your help after missions. Maybe those months of ridiculous requests were just a joke to him, something to laugh about with his friends.

The sun goes down, signaling that it’s time for you to head home. You say goodbye to Madja and leave out the front door.

“Y/n.” You immediately turn toward the voice. Waiting by the door, you find Azriel. You look him up and down, assessing for injuries and observing his healing progress. The scars on his wings are only faint marks now.

“You look like you’re healing well. If you need medical attention, I suggest asking a more skilled healer, like Madja.” You say bitterly, walking past him. He sighs heavily.

“I didn’t mean to upset you that night. You weren’t supposed to see me like that.” He follows behind you, catching up quickly due to his long legs.

"Yes, you made that very clear. You didn’t want me there, you don’t trust me to handle your manor healing. I heard you loud and clear.” You refuse to look at him.

"No, that’s not-“ You turn down a side road suddenly, trying to evade him. “I know you can handle healing my more serious injuries, I just didn’t want you there.” You stop and stare at him, slightly in disbelief at his words. Is he really this cruel, or is he just really this bad at speaking to people? He reads your expression and backtracks.

“No, it’s not that I don’t want you around, I just don’t want you there.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Gods, I’m just making this worse. Can I start over?” You don’t respond, but he takes the fact that you aren’t walking away as a yes.

“I didn’t want you to handle my major injuries because, when I’m focused on my missions, I am a completely different person. I hate who I am outside of this city. I hate what I have to do, but I do it to protect my court and protect my family. When I get back, it sometimes takes me a while to get back to normal. I didn’t want you to see me like that, so I wouldn’t scare you off. It seems I managed to do that anyway, so I guess I was right to stay away.” You finally look at him. Who treated him so poorly to make him think so low of himself?

You take a step closer to him and look into his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of you that night. I was scared that you could’ve died. I was scared of the way you pushed me away. But never of you. I’ve healed fae from all over with horrible histories, grusome wounds, and severe PTSD. You’re job is hard, but you shouldn’t handle that burden alone.”

“You spend enough of your time fixing people, I don’t want to be another person you feel like you need to fix.” He says in a self loathing tone.

“You aren’t broken, Azriel. You don’t need fixing, just support.” You take his hand. “Let me be there for you. Let me be your friend. Please.” He stares at your hand holding his for a few moments.

“What if I don’t want you as my friend?” You frown, and he immediately realizes how that must have come across as you attempt to pull your hand away. He tightens his grip on your hand. “What I mean is, will you go to dinner with me? Like, on a date?” You look at him surprised, blushing hard. “Cmon, y/n. I thought I was pretty obvious that I have feelings for you with my dozens of ridiculous injuries and requests.” He chuckles.

“I would love to get dinner, Azriel.” He gives you a wide smile. The two of you begin to walk side by side down the street. After a few moments of silence, Azriel speaks.

“Now that you’re no longer mad at me, can I have more of that soothing cream? I’ve been out for like a week, but I’ve been too afraid to ask you for more.” You laugh.

“Of course you can.”

Have a great weekend everyone!!

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #fanfic #bat boys #my writing #acotar x reader #azriel angst

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Twelve

Summary: Y/n is desperate to save her mate, they keep telling her he will be fine, but she knows something is wrong

Warnings: ANGSTY!!!! Madja is a good healer I swear, it’s solely for the plot

Series Masterlist

-Part Twelve-

Wake up, please wake up. Faint, desperate words in his mind. Not his shadows, the voice was female, with a soft, swirling accent like the mountain breeze running through his hair. There’s a feeling, like this female is everything, that he needs to get to her, to tell her something. Fight, Az, come back.

He tried, so hard, it hurt to much.

Mate, mate, mate.

The word beats in her head in time with his heart. She could feel it, beating in time with her own, across the bridge between their souls, the shadowy tether that she could feel like another limb connecting them.

Mate, mate, mate.

Azriel was her mate, this male, laying before her, thick bandages wrapped over the wound on his chest from the arrow he took because of her. Because of a broken goddess, because she knew the anger, the ferocity caused by a mate being hurt, would unlock that fire in Y/n, Mala’s own power, the only thing strong enough to finally kill her. Her mother had only a drop of it left, Y/n had inherited a deep well of it, deeper than she thought she had, a final gift from Mala.

Amren theorized that Deanna had opened the gate that brought Y/n to them. That she was trying to bring Y/n to whatever world she’d been trapped in, to use the power in her veins to gift her the death she desired, but something happened when the gate opened, the bond between her and Azriel had altered her course, had brought her to him. A gift from the Wyrd, to find her mate all the way across the stars.

Mate, mate, mate.

The gate Y/n had opened had been hijacked by Deanna before it could find Terrasen, and the goddess was able to take the Walking Dead and open her own gate. Amren assumed that, without Deanna’s interference, the gate would work as it should, that they would be able to try it again. She could go home now, could see her parents, her family, Terrasen.

Mate, mate, mate.

It had been nearly a week, since Deanna, since that arrow had pierced Azriel’s chest and she had felt that mating bond between them. Felt it thin as his heart slowed in his chest. It had felt like she was dying with him. A healer, Madja, had tried to lay her hands on him, Y/n had been so deep in a furious red haze that she almost burned the female alive. A red shield had surrounded her as Cassian had ripped her away, she’d almost killed him too, Madja had to heal the burns left on his arms. Feyre had been the one to finally calm her down, arms covered in cold water so she could hold onto Y/n’s scorching skin.

“He’s okay!” She had screamed, when the water had started to boil. “She’s healing him, Y/n look! It missed his heart, he’s okay!”

Y/n had watched the arrow clatter to the floor, the blood coating it, and the wound slowly stitching together beneath the healer’s hands. Feyre let her go, only when Y/n had gone practically limp in her arms. She’d crumbled to the floor, no longer supported by the High Lady, and she crawled towards him, laid down beside him, and pulled on that bond, refusing to let him go.

A week had passed, and she hadn’t attempted to open a gate, to go home, she’d barely even left his room. She couldn’t, not when he was still asleep, not when this bond in her chest was the only indication that he was still alive. Would she still feel it if she left? Will it feel like when he’d almost died, that thinning, that pain, that fear? The thought was so terrifying, so painful, she couldn’t even attempt it, wouldn’t step in that room that still smelled of his blood.

Wake up, shadowsinger, please.

He didn’t.

The inner court checked on her and Azriel periodically, rotating through, Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Mor, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, over and over again. Even Amren had visited a few times, she’d been the one to finally drag her to the dining room to eat with the rest of the court.

“You can come back and wallow in your misery after you eat, girl.”

Amren didn’t practice kindness, not in the way many would. Forcing her out of that room, quite literally dragging her down the hall, was her form of being kind, of reaching out to make sure Y/n was okay. She wasn’t, she was far from okay, but she let the tiny female force her into her seat, met the concerned eyes of each of the court members, and ate whatever the house forced onto her plate.

“He’ll be okay,” Cassian says gently, his own voice weighed down by his concern for his brother, “Madja has healed worse injuries, he’s had worse.”

She didn’t want to know what those injuries were, “I know.”

“Y/n-“

“How long did you all know,” she cuts him off, looking between each of them, “That he and I were mates? I’m assuming you all know.”

A few of them had the decency to look ashamed. Feyre especially, who gives her mate a hard stare, no doubt speaking to him in his mind. By the way he winces, Y/n assumes it’s not a pleasant conversation.

“After the fight you two had,” Rhys starts, “I had Amren ask the Book of Breathings for more answers, she wrung the information out of it. I told Azriel what it had said, I left it to him on how to tell you.”

After their fight, when he’d disappeared for hours and hours, when she’d felt so lost and miserable, an echo of how he felt. He’d come back, had known exactly how awful she was feeling, called her a coward.

“I wanted to tell you,” Feyre says, glaring at her family around her, “I know how awful it is to be left in the dark-“

“He should have told me,” Y/n says, no heat, no anger, “Azriel should have told me.”

Cassian winces at the cold emptiness in her voice, “He wanted to, but he didn’t want to burden you with it, to hold you back from getting home.”

“He should have told me,” she says again, voice so cold, “He doesn’t get to call me a coward, while he was hiding this.”

“Y/n,” Mor’s gentle voice, “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Of course he didn’t, that’s not why she was upset. She knew that Azriel cared about her, cared enough that he would suffer beneath the weight of this mating bond alone so she wouldn’t have to. He would take an arrow for her, again and again, and that was terrifying, that he would die for her without ever telling her why. That he would die and leave her behind knowing that she lost the mate she hadn’t even known she’d had.

Y/n stands, ignoring the pity in their eyes, the understanding in the eyes of the High Lady’s, the anger on her behalf from Nesta, the disappointment from Amren. She didn’t want any of it, any of them, she wanted her mother, her father, her family. More than anything, she wanted Azriel.

Days passed, Azriel kept sleeping. Something was wrong, so unbelievably wrong, he should have woken by now, he’d been asleep to long. Y/n couldn’t do anything, the panic pressing down like the mountain had crumbled around her, pinning her beneath the red stone. She yanked on that bond, begging and yelling for him to, wake up, wake up, please, Az, wake up.

Nothing, just that faint steady presence of his heartbeat, the bridge of shadows dark on his side like he couldn’t even dream in his sleep.

Madja looked him over, changing his bandages, she found nothing wrong, he just needed rest. That’s what they all kept telling her, he’ll be okay, Y/n, he needs to rest.

She wanted to scream, to burn the next fae that told her he was okay, he wasn’t, something was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Please, Azriel, I need you to wake up.

He wanted to tell her something, needed to tell her something. He tried so hard to wake, to reach for her, but he couldn’t.

I’m here, Princess. I’m here.

“Help,” she’s screaming, “Help, please! Cassian!”

Azriel’s body violently shakes beneath her hands, his skin hot and coated in sweat. She’d woken to his limbs colliding with her own, part of her had thought he’d woken up, but when she’d shot up, seen his eyes still closed, felt the intense pain coming from him down the bond, she screamed and screamed for help.

A seizure, he was having a seizure. She’d spent time in the southern continent, at the torre with her aunt. Learning the basics of healing because she was fascinated with it as a young teenager. There had been a man who was yelling for help, his wife had collapsed in the street and she was shaking. The healers had helped her, her aunt had described the situation as a seizure, told her what to do. She knew what to do, but in this moment she was panicking to much to do it.

The door slams open, Cassian running, dagger in hand, “Mother above.”

“Get the healer,” she screams, “Get Rhys, Feyre, anyone, please!”

That far away look in his eyes, “They’re on their way, just hold on.”

“Help me turn him on his side,” Y/n pleads, forcing herself to breathe, to do what her aunt had instructed her to do.

Cassian rushes to her, helping her haul his brother up and onto his side, “How long has he been like this?”

“I don’t know, a few minutes maybe,” she says, “Where’s Madja?”

“Almost here,” he answers, that look in his eye, “Rhys is flying them up now.”

Y/n gently holds Azriel, his shaking form beneath her palms, whispering down that shadowy bridge between them, You’re okay, it’s going to be okay, it’s okay.

She didn’t believe herself at all. Not even when the seizure subsided, not when Madja had arrived with a frantic Rhys in tow, not when she checked him over and found nothing outwardly wrong with him.

“All we can do is wait,” Madja says, laying a gentle hand on Y/n’s shoulder, before leaving with Rhys and Cassian.

She couldn’t wait anymore.

The room is pitch black, the moon and stars covered by clouds in the sky, the only light comes from the small candle in her hand. It still smells of his blood, the whole room reeks of it, his combining with her own.

The cut on her arm was a dull ache, barely noticeable beneath the pain and fear in her heart. Her blood was warm on her fingertips, she pressed them to the floor and drew, drew the symbols she’d memorized, drew the name she had learned as a child, one of many.

Her voice sounded hallow in her ears, the painful words tearing through her vocal chords. The blood turns green, casting the room in its sickly light. Her hands shook as she finished, wide eyes staring into the darkness.

“What is that?”

She almost sobs at the voice, at the woman who comes into view, peering into the gate. The only person she could think of that would know what to do, to save him.

“Yrene,” her voice broke as the woman’s eyes landed on her, “I need your help.”

“Oh gods,” her aunt sobs loudly, “Y/n, my darling girl where have you-“

The door behind her aunt flies open, a man as familiar as her own father running through, sword raised to protect his wife, “What is it? What’s wrong-”

He spots the gate, sliding to a stop, “Y/n? My gods-“

“Please,” Y/n sobs, “I need help, please something is wrong, he won’t wake up, a seizure, he can’t, I can’t-“

“Y/n slow down,” Chaol lowers his sword, “Sweetheart breathe, calm down, who’s hurt, where are you?”

“Yrene please, he needs your help,” Y/n begs, she falls to her knees, her hands raised over her head, palms up, “Please, help him.”

There’s a shift in the air as Yrene steps through the gate, Y/n sobs when her aunt’s hands grasp her own. Yrene pulls Y/n to her feet, supporting her weight. Behind her, Chaol takes a step towards them but Yrene shakes her head.

“Get Aelin and Rowan,” she commands.

Chaol looks ready to argue, but a sharp look from his wife has him nodding once, “Be careful, my love”

“Where is he?”

Y/n runs, forcing herself to slow down, to keep pace with Yrene’s human form. She follows that bond, pulling on it, feeling the heartbeat on the other side and nothing more. It was like Azriel was barely there, blocked, hidden from her.

She felt then, a rumbling power, night kissed darkness. Rhys was coming, he’d felt the portal open no doubt, she didn’t care to stop, to explain to him what she had done. He could wait, Azriel couldn’t.

The door to his room is wide open, the house already knew what was happening, the room lit by fae lights. Yrene didn’t hesitate, just ran to the bed, to Azriel.

“What happened?”

It was a struggle to keep calm long enough to briefly describe what had happened, that he’d been shot in the chest by the goddess Deanna, that he’d been in a coma ever since. Yrene lays her hands over Azriel’s chest, faint warm light glowing from her palms. Her magic searching, washing over him and into that wound beneath his bandages.

“What is this?” That night kissed power explodes into the room, “Get your hands off my brother!”

Y/n throws herself in his path, a cold harsh wind blowing him back, “Rhys stop! She’s helping him, this is my aunt, I told you about her.”

“You opened a gate? Alone?” His voice is scathing, “What if something had happened again? You almost died last time! Damnit Y/n, you could have asked-”

“I needed to do something, I couldn’t keep waiting,” she snaps, her voice breaking, “Rhys I can’t- I can’t lose him.”

The anger in Rhys shatters, “I know, Y/n, I know, me too.”

“I don’t know what’s going on over there,” Yrene calls out, “But I could use some help.”

Y/n turns from Rhys, offering no translation, “What? what is it?”

“There’s something here,” Yrene says, hand hovering over the bandages, “Magic, it’s old, older than the valg. It feels similar though, to what was paralyzing your uncle, it’s attached to his heart.”

“What can I do?”

“Hold him down,” she says, “Get the angry one to help, this is probably going to hurt really bad.”

“Rhys,” Y/n throws over her shoulder, “Help me hold him down.”

The High Lord does without hesitation, “What’s wrong with him? What is she doing?”

Almost in response, Azriel screams. Arching off the bed, wings flaring beneath him, almost knocking Y/n over. Rhys throws his weight over his brothers kicking legs, using some of that power to restrain him. Y/n’s own wind holds Azriel down where she can’t reach, keeping his arm from swinging into Yrene.

His screams are so achingly painful, shouting down the bond between them, the first sign of him she’d had in nearly two weeks.

“You’re okay,” she shushes him, “It’s going to be okay. Just hold on.”

He screams and screams, tears streaming down his cheeks. Y/n can only hold on, can only cry with him. Every feeling is thrown down the bond, like it had been opened like a door between their minds, pain, fear, agony, Y/n could feel it all like it was her own chest, like it was being torn open, like her heart was being ripped out.

“I’ve almost got it,” her aunt says through clenched teeth, “Just a little while longer.”

Hold on, just hold on. She hopes he can hear her, he only screams in response. Roaring loud enough to shake the mountain beneath them. She screams with him, her already hoarse voice shattering, she could taste blood on her tongue.

A bright silver light shines through Yrene’s warm healing glow. It nearly blinds Y/n, she has to squint to see what it even was. Slowly pulling it from Azriel’s chest, it looked almost like a worm made of moon fire, writhing inside a bubble of Yrene’s magic.

Azriel slumps to the bed, breathing hard and fast, his eyes do not open. Y/n collapses against him, cradling his head to her chest, her fingers running through his hair.

“What is that?”

She looks up at Rhys, “One last fuck you from Deanna.”

The magic reeks of the goddess, a shred of her left in it, mocking, laughing. Y/n holds out her hand, and her aunt wordlessly drops the silver thing into her hand. It writhes in her palm, she glares at it, at the final shred of the wretched goddess.

“Go to Hel,” she spits, and her palm lights in the deepest, hottest blue flame, until there’s nothing left.

Wake, wake up, here, she’s here, wake up, tell her, wake up! The voices hurt his head, adding to the pain that radiates through his whole body. It hurt, his head, his chest, his heart, it all hurt.

He couldn’t force his eyes to open, so he relies on his other senses. He was laying down, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets, warm. From the scent surrounding him, he was in his own room, but there was another scent, pine and snow and embers, home. It clung to the pillows beside him, he wants to turn his face into it and inhale deeply. He tries, but the motion causes his already aching head to scream in pain.

“Az?”

That voice, soft and swirling air, the northern breeze that caught in his wings and lifted him high into the sky. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, her voice, the one he’d heard in his dreams, the one begging him to wake. He had to tell her something, desperately needed to tell her.

“Princess-“ he coughs, his throat felt like sand paper, felt like he had been screaming.

“Here,” she says.

He feels the bed dip beside him, something cold presses to his lips, water. The cold liquid slides over his tongue soothing the pain in his throat. He drinks deeply for several seconds, groaning when she takes the glass away.

“You’ll make yourself sick,” she chides.

He wanted to open his eyes, to see her, to tell her everything, “Princess, I-“

Her hand in his, so right, so perfect, “I know, shadowsinger, I know.”

Azriel finally forces his eyes open, the sunlight shines through the open curtains, settling over her like a blanket of gold. Beautiful, so achingly beautiful. He could feel her, that tether of shadow more like a solid bridge between them.

“You know,” he breathes, “How-“

“You should have told me,” she stops him, her hand shaking in his palm, “Gods, Az, you should have told me. Instead, I watched an arrow go into your chest, I felt you dying on the other side of the bond.”

The words send a shock of pain through his chest, like that arrow was finding home in his heart once again. It echoes the pain she felt, still feels.

“It felt like I was dying with you,” she says, her eyes burning with lingering rage, “I killed her. I didn’t think, couldn’t, I felt that bond in my chest, knew that you were my mate, and she had tried to take you from me. I burned her to nothing but ash.”

Azriel could only stare at the female, she had killed a goddess, an ancient terrible creature, for him. His mate, his viscous warrior of a mate, gods killer.

“You should have told me,” she repeats again, and Azriel can feel the anger and the fear she feels, “You almost died, and I- I didn’t- I couldn’t- You“

“I’m sorry.” The broken words tear into his heart, “I’m so sorry, Princess.”

“I know,” she takes a deep breath, “I know why you hid it, I understand that, I just- I almost lost you before I’d even known I had you.”

Her face falls, looking down at the hands in her lap that fidget with the loose black fabric. Night court black, it almost seemed like mourning black to Azriel.

“Hey.” It takes more effort than he’s willing to admit to lift his scarred hand to her cheek, turning her face back to him, “I’m okay, you still have me, if you still want me.”

Her eyes are lined with silver tears as she nods once, a simple gesture that breaks and rebuilds every part of his soul. He didn’t need some big mating ceremony, didn’t need a party, didn’t need her to offer him food, just that nod, that simple yes, was more than enough.

Despite the pain, Azriel sits up, cradling her face in the palm of his hand, marveling at the sight of her wide eyes, no cold, no heat, just full of wonder. A single tear runs down her cheek and Azriel leans in, kissing away the drop.

“You’re my mate,” he whispers against her skin, it feels like a weight lifting off his shoulders, off his heart, “Mine.”

She pulls back, just enough to look into his eyes and say, “And you are mine.”

Azriel runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek, “My beautiful, wonderful, vicious mate.”

She smiles and he could fall apart completely. He looks down at those lips, soft and sweet, and Azriel kisses his mate, and for once in his life, everything felt right.

Y/n had been the first to pull away from the kiss, so achingly gentle, “You must be starving.”

Azriel’s eyes were firmly locked on her lips as he said, “Yes I am.”

Every instinct in him was roaring to keep kissing her, to do more than that. His mate, gods this was his mate.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly two weeks, you need to eat.”

That gets his attention, his dark brows furrowed, “Two weeks?”

“The others are waiting in the dining room,” she says gently, “We can wait, we’ll go whenever you’re ready, but your family is desperate to see you.”

He’d been asleep for two weeks, they’d be beside themselves with worry, his brothers especially. There’s two voices in his head, one begging to see them, one that remembers that they’d also seen that arrow go into his chest, had watched as he nearly died. The other voice begs him to stay, to lay this female down and claim her in every way he could, his mate.

“You’re still recovering,” Y/n says, hand coming up to rest on the bandages over his chest, “Eat first, see your family. I’m not going anywhere.”

Yet. That unspoken word, she wasn’t going anywhere yet. He wonders if she heard it too, wonders if she could feel his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

Azriel wants to scream, instead he swallows it down and says, “Food first then.”

Y/n smiles and Azriel memorizes the image of her, tucks it away for later, ignoring the feeling of sand trickling down an hour glass, like their time was running out.

“Here, let me help.” She stands, grabbing a shirt from the wardrobe.

Azriel throws the covers off, feeling the sore and stiff muscles throughout his body. He forces himself through it, to lift his arms as she pulls the shirt over his head, to breathe as her hands button the shirt beneath his wings. Each step he takes feels like fire lancing through him, he doesn’t wince, doesn’t complain, only holds onto her hand as she guides them through the halls closer and closer to his family.

“Hold on.” He stops, pulling on her hand just before they turn that final corner, “Give me a second.”

Worried eyes, searching him head to toe, “What is it? What’s wrong? Do you need to sit down?”

Azriel smiles, “I’m alright, Princess.”

“What-“

He doesn’t give her the chance to finish her sentence, his arms wrapping around her waist and tugging her to his chest. The smallest gasp leaves her lips and he breathes it in as his lips find hers. He needed one more kiss, to steady himself, to prepare himself for the overbearing love and care from his family.

Y/n holds tightly to his shirt, “Az.”

He squeezes her hips, his name on her tongue was one of his favorite sounds. He hums against her lips, memorizing the feel of this too.

“Az I need to tell you-“

It could wait, everything could wait. He needed her now, who knew how much time he had left with her. He kisses her like he was trying to steal the air from her lungs, so entwined with her, with the feeling of her mouth, of her hands, of her body, his defenses down. Not even his shadows warned him.

A blade pressed between his shoulders, between his wings, the sharp tip digging in just enough to sting, and a lethally calm voice, “I recommend you take your hands off my daughter.”

Tag list

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#a little shorter but whatever #I desperately want to write the next part #it didn’t fit in with this one #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar x reader #rowaelin daughter #rowaelin #not again

[wingedblooms]

Like a moth to a flame

Maasverse spoilers below. Proceed with caution.

When Feyre and Elain visit the weaver near solstice, we learn that there is a very specific kind of light that not only withstands the darkness, but cuts through it like a blade.

"The silver thread," Elain asked. "What is that called?" The weaver paused the loom again, the colorful strings vibrating. She held my sister's gaze. No attempt at a smile this time. "I call it Hope." My throat became unbearably tight, my eyes stinging enough that I had to turn away, to walk back toward that extraordinary tapestry. The weave explained to my sister, "I made it after I mastered Void." I stared and stared at the black fabric that was like peering into a pit of hell. And then stared at the iridescent, living silver thread that cut through it, bright despite the darkness that devoured all other light and color. (acofas)

That light is Hope. It is a living thread of iridescent light like the healing light that flows from Nesta:

Iridescent light began flowing from Nesta's body. Into Feyre. [...] Tendrils of light drifted between the sisters. And one, delicate and loving, floated toward Mor. (acosf)

I’ve always wondered if the tendrils of iridescent light between the sisters is a hint of what lies between them: raw magic.

“Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.” (acosf)

We hear about the raw magic of High Fae when the inner circle learns about Nesta’s Made swords. And Sarah just happens to drop art, jewelry, and weaponry as objects that can be imbued with raw magic. Objects that make us think of the sisters: Feyre creates art, Nesta is compared to and actually forges swords, and Elain is gifted art and jewelry that embody nature. She is a blooming flower compared to Nesta’s freshly forged sword (acowar). And the two sisters who have had their stories told have used raw magic to heal (Cauldron; Feyre, Nyx), to create, like the High Fae once did. We will likely see the third sister exhibit rawer magic as well.

We're led to believe that the Mother shows Nesta how to heal Feyre with iridescent light when she agrees to return her magic. We also see a luminous hand (presumably the Mother's) prevent the Cauldron from taking all of Nesta's power, which may be connected to the hand on the mural in Spring that pours the contents of the Cauldron into the void to create Prythian's world. In Herbs she planted, I discussed Elain’s connections to witches and healers (and these categories often overlap, like witches and seers; since the sisters may all possess raw magic, it is not far fetched that Elain could weave sight and healing together as a mystical forest witch would). In that post, I also review how the being we call the Mother behaves a lot like the Other who appears to Yrene in Tower of Dawn. This Other is believed to be Silba, the goddess of healing and gentle deaths. Like the Mother, Silba is also associated with a dark womb, and her healing magic is referred to as world-making power, which brings to mind the hands of creation in Spring.

Yrene, the healer Silba appears to, possesses raw healing magic and it manifests as white light. She uses it to battle Valg magic, which is compared to darkness, void, and hell.

He’d roared around it. His bellowing had been almost as bad as the magic itself. It was a void. It was a new, dark hell. […] She’d hurled her magic against the wall, letting its swarm of burning white lights attack in wave after wave, but—nothing. (tod)

Like water, it seeps into Chaol's legs, and acts like a swarm of fireflies.

Closing her eyes, Yrene let her power seep into his legs like a swarm of white fireflies, finding those damaged pathways and congregating, surrounding the frayed bits that went silent during these exercises, when they should have been lit up like the rest of him. (tod)

Healers' lights are also compared to blooms, and together, they are a field of white flowers.

Blooming lights, along that broken interior. And where they shone... Flesh knitted. Bone smoothed. Light after light after light. [...] Yrene brushed herself along them, waded through them like a field of white flowers, the lights bobbing and swaying in this quiet place of pain. Not lights...but healers. She knew their lights, their essences. (tod)

Her power can also cut through the dark like a weapon, like Hope.

No way to stop Yrene as she plunged into his body, her magic a white swarming light around them, inside them. […] Yrene did not hesitate. She soared through him, down the ladder of his spine, down the corridors of his bones and blood. She was a spear of light, fired straight into the dark, aiming for that hovering shadow that had stretched out once more. That had tried to reclaim him. Yrene slammed into the darkness and screamed. (tod)

Healing magic is repeatedly compared to living things, and we often see Yrene’s raw gift swarm when it attacks the darkness. The term swarm is associated with flying insects, and in particular, honeybees. They swarm protectively when they leave the hive with new life.

“Fire is cleansing. Purifying. But amongst the healing arts, it’s not often used. Too unwieldy. Water is better-tuned to the healing. But then there are raw healing gifts. Like mine.”

“Light,” Chaol said. “It looked like swarming lights, against their darkness.” (tod)

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Elain rose early to accompany Feyre and asked the weaver about the living thread of Hope, especially since this thread resembles the way raw healing magic—living light—behaves in the darkness. We learn that life, in the form of living light, not only pierces the void, but travels through it. Elain is consistently linked to rebirth and the dawn through imagery and her daily routine, rising with the dawn to tend to gardens or help the twins in the kitchen. Dawn is connected to healing magic, and ahappyhermit theorized that Elain may have even healed Cassian’s wounds as Nesta beheaded Hybern in acowar. @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell also theorized that Elain might be a Lifesinger, calling to living things around her as she creates. She is often (if not constantly) creating. Whatever happens in canon, it’s clear Elain is the epitome of living light, of Hope:

Beautiful - she'd always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn. (acomaf)

She was a rose bloom in a mud field.(acowar)

Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine. (acofas)

Her sister's delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. [...] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain's smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. (acosf)

Her brown eyes were bright with tears, but she kept her chin high. (acosf)

Even on the longest night of the year, she glows like the dawn, when light pierces the darkness.

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The Fanlights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat. (Azriel's bonus chapter)

Nesta placed her symbol, a bloom made in the icy darkness of winter, next to the Mother's figurine on the mantle. The Mother who showed Nesta how to use her raw magic to heal. We learn in tod that healers sense Death nearby when they are called upon to heal someone’s wounds or ease their passing (hence the reference to gentle deaths). And as @psychologynerd reminded me, Elain uses her hands to bring joy and beauty to others, even in death.

Elain quietly washed his face. Combed out his hair and beard. Straightened his clothes.

She found flowers—somewhere. She laid them at his head, on his chest.

We stared down at him in silence. “I love you,” Elain whispered, voice breaking.

Nesta said nothing, face unreadable. There were such shadows in her eyes. I had not told her what I’d seen—had let them tell me what they wanted.

Elain breathed, “Should we—say a prayer?”

We did not have such things in the human world, I remembered. My sisters had no prayers to offer him. But in Prythian …

“Mother hold you,” I whispered, reciting words I had not heard since that day Under the Mountain. “May you pass through the gates; may you smell that immortal land of milk and honey.” Flame ignited at my fingertips. All I could muster. All that was left. “Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” My mouth trembled as I breathed, “May you enter eternity.”

Tears slid down Elain’s pallid cheeks as she adjusted an errant flower on our father’s chest, white-petaled and delicate, and then backed away to my side with a nod. (acowar)

I can’t help but wonder where she might’ve found those white flowers on a blood-stained battlefield. Did she actually find them, or did she will them from the soil with her own magic? I love that she does not balk from death and finds a way to nurture life amid bloodshed.

And like a moth to a flame, Azriel—Death incarnate—is repeatedly drawn to Elain, whose light seems to be able to cut through his shadows. A match in power for the darkness.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hands still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection...that knife. (acowar)

Truth-Teller, a Starborn heirloom, is the bridge between them. It is a bridge of power, where dark and light blend together, creating the harmonious contrast of dawn and dusk. Dark light. @offtorivendell wrote beautifully about how this scene hints at their future, and @psychologynerd suggested it represents an alchemical marriage. I have also wondered what might happen if their powers are joined like their hands in this scene. In one hand, Elain creates joy and life, and in the other hand, Azriel inflicts pain and death. They have also traded roles when called upon, usually in response to the other. This might explain why Azriel’s power also behaves like a dark counterpart to Elain’s, shadows gathering information as her Sight does, twining like her prophetic vine of flowers. They also swarm like the living light of healing when Azriel—or someone he cares about—is threatened.

"Because of the shit with Elain?" Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?" Cassian waved a hand. "A fight with Nesta. Don't bring it up," he warned when Azriel's eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. "I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then." "It's about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there." "It's bad, then." Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. "You all right?" His brother nodded. "Fine." But the shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open up. (acosf)

Elain had a mere fight with her sister and cold-as-death Azriel nearly lost his shit. His eyes darkened and his shadows swarmed him, promising pain. He wasn’t even there to witness the fight, he just heard about it after the fact. Death clearly has it bad for the lovely fawn. And I fully expect to see her living light bring him to his knees. Like a moth to a flame.

#living light #a match in power for the dark #power attracts power #Death and the lovely fawn #twining vines and shadows #swarming light and shadows #like a moth to a flame #Hope and Void #a blend of the two #dark light #elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #tog healers #maasverse connections #elainarcheronweek2023 #day 7 #elain archeron week 2023

[starsxblazing]

Cause and Effect (Part 1)

a/n: Finally part one of the series as I work on requests! I tagged everyone that commented on the original story but there were a few that I was unable to. Thank all of you so much in your interest!

Azriel x reader/Archeron!sister

(Part 2)

From the moment that you were forced into the Cauldron, your life had drastically changed. You weren’t sure what to do or where you fit in life. It wasn’t like you truly fit in anywhere anyway but it had only been amplified by being turned into High Fae. Pain and betrayal stayed with you because Feyre had done nothing to help you, Nesta, and Elain. In a sense, you understood why but it didn’t stop the emotions.

Being the youngest of all of the Archeron sisters meant that you were always looked over by everyone. Your father barely acknowledged your existence and Nesta was always more concerned about Elain and her wellbeing. You were only a year younger than Feyre and even she wasn’t treated in the way that you were.

Maybe it was because she took the initiative to risk her life to keep you all fed but when you pushed to help her, she refused your help and brushed you aside like everyone else. The only attention that you got was from a boy your age and you also knew that he didn’t truly care about you. It was only all about him getting what he wanted and then leaving.

The one thing that kept you going, kept you somewhat hopeful, were a select few human holidays that were nearly completely forgotten for a reason unknown to you. There was one in particular that always stood out and you always did your best to celebrate it. Despite that, your low rank in the family simply earned you a scoff and told that it didn’t matter. 

You simply wanted to share a small bit of joy that you could hold onto with the four of them. It was hard being so different in the sense that you wanted to spread love and joy but everyone around you was more focused on being miserable with poverty. 

The Fae had their own traditions, you had learned, in the separate courts in the new world that you were forced into but that piece of you that loved your holiday felt as if it was slowly dying. Dying just as your humanity had. You had watched in horror as Feyre was forced back to the original court that she had found her first love in. Despite that, you kept silent while standing a few feet away from your two oldest sisters on the ground who were just as drenched as you were.

Mor had all three of you before you had time to blink, sending you all through a pit of darkness before landing in yet another place that you were unfamiliar with. Naturally, everything would be unknown to you and a piece of you didn’t really care. As you sat in your room all alone, your mind drifted to the males in the castle that you had been in and you could only hope that they were alright. Your caring heart wouldn’t let you feel much of anything else.

That was until you began to move between both of your sisters' rooms. You didn’t want to be alone but Elain was in a catatonic state and Nesta simply shoved you out of the room. It was a traumatizing situation for all of you but you craved and longed for someone to be there for you as Nesta was for Elain to help you cope.

Mor had come to check on all three of you within a couple of hours and she was the first one that showed you genuine kindness for the first time in a really long time. It unfortunately didn’t last long before the female left you alone again with the excuse that she needed to check on her friends.

“Are they going to be okay?” you asked worriedly.

“They will be,” she assured with a tender smile. “They just need some rest while the healers work on them.”

“Tell them that I hope that they get better soon.”

She gave you a small smile of understanding and once she left, you made your way back to your room. You hadn’t taken the time before to fully take in the sight before you. The bed was huge, decorated in different shades of blue. Your new bed was just as big and it made you wonder why a bed would need to be so large. It was a far cry from what you were used to in poverty and even the new estate that you had placed in couldn’t compare to this.

The balcony was what caught your attention the most and you couldn’t stop yourself from enjoying the evening breeze that flowed through your hair, setting you at ease as you took in the sight of the city below you. You knew that the small area would be where you would spend a majority of your time if your sisters didn’t want anything to do with you.

Unable to stay in one place, you found yourself wandering aimlessly in an attempt to learn your new surroundings. The simple fact that it was built into the mountain amazed you and you wondered how much work it took to do such a thing. Becoming aware of your surroundings was your main goal but you always ran excitedly when Mor came to visit.

“Have you heard from Feyre?” you asked as you dined with her at the end of your first day in your new dwellings.

No.” Mor shook her head, sadness written in her features. “She’s fully capable of handling herself but we’re hoping that it won’t take her long to accomplish whatever she has planned.”

“And your friends?”

“Our best healer is working on Cassian’s wings,” she answered somewhat hesitantly even though you swore you saw tenderness in her eyes. “Azriel’s wound was nowhere near as bad as it seemed and he’ll be okay in another day or so.”

“I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to have that happen when you have wings.” You shook your head as pain for them filled you. “Or having an arrow in your chest that’s laced with poison.”

“They are Illyrians and they heal quickly,” she assured. “Healing and reconstructing wings is quite difficult but we trust our healer immensely.”

You weren’t given much information and your heart sank whenever she had to leave to check on the injured males. Taking a chance on Nesta again, you slipped into the library to be met with a hostile face. It was all that you could do not to cringe away from that look so you sighed instead.

“Mor just left and said her friends are healing,” you offered.

“I don’t care,” she replied matter of factly, her tone proving her words. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh- Just came for a book,” you muttered, your heart breaking at the hatred that you were receiving.

“Well get it and go.”

Doing as told, you grabbed the first book that you could get your hands on and darted to your room. Mor hadn’t returned on the second day and Rhysand, the High Lord, simply walked through the home, glancing at all three of you before leaving again. You were unable to focus on the words in the romance book that you had unknowingly grabbed as you sat at the dining room table on the third day.

You heard the beat of wings before you saw them and noticed that it was one of the males, Azriel as you remembered, who had landed on the balcony. It took you a moment of staring to realize that he was the most beautiful male that you had ever seen in your relatively short life. He locked eyes with you when he noticed you and his own went wide when you smiled brightly before he stumbled back a step as if he were in shock.

“Hey!” you exclaimed a bit too excitedly, happy to see another person.

“Hi,” he whispered breathlessly.

A small smile formed on his face that only caused you to grin in response.

Tag List:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover @cleverzonkwombatsludge @alessiazeni @rhenysz @ladespedidas @meritxellao @candyjaypoppins @carnationworld @mulansaucey @why4anne @tsibba01 @sassyangel16 @aetherl0l @wallacewillow0773638 @cherryinsalemverse @lupinswolfsbanes @amysangel @ayme301 @sassyslytherinshai @zeroangelo13 @sirens-and-moonflowers @evye47 @starcrossedsan @impossibelle @landofpetrichor @tuggboatfishin @dr4g0ngirl @one-big-fangirl @mistyheart @ang-taylorsversion @youngblood199456 @anuttellaa

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar

[highladyivy]

Fic Recs

💕 Fluff

❤️‍🔥 Smut

💔 Angst

📚Multi Chapter

📖 WIP 📒 Completed

Be Yours by @writingsbychlo 💕

Forever my love by @bat-boys 💕❤️‍🔥

Overwritten by @illyrian-dreamer (11 parts) 💔❤️‍🔥 📚📒

Hobbies by @milswrites (12parts) 💕💔📚📒

Notice me by @heartless-tate 💕

Teach Me by @solbaby7 (brief Elain x Reader) 💕

Always by @redbleedingrose (9 parts)💔💕📚📒

Not again by @fanwarriorfictions 📚📖(Rowilen Daughter)

An Education in Malice by @illyrianbitch ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

A Court of Soul & Shadow by (AO3) 📚📖

When the heart is still longing by @illyrianbitch 💔

I’ve been waiting for you by @prythianpages 💕

You drew stars around my scars @flickering-chandeliers 💕

A Place For Dying by @illyrianbitch 💔

A Court of Healers & Plotholes by @witchysquirrel 💔❤️‍🔥📚📖

Mama Mia 2 by @assriels 💔💔💔

Knocked Up by @tadpolesonalgae ❤️‍🔥

The bonds that break us by @daydreaming-nerd 💕💔❤️‍🔥📚

To Be Wed 2 by @bloodycassian (AzrielxReaderxRhysand)❤️‍🔥

Handmaid by @littlestw01f (NestaxReaderxEris) ❤️‍🔥

Blurred Lines 2 3 4 by @solbaby7 (readerxRhysand&Azriel) ❤️‍🔥📚

Double Duty by @azsazz (RhysandxReaderxCassian) ❤️‍🔥

If you should die by @azsazz (BatBoysxReader)❤️‍🔥

Tender by @shadowdaddies (batboys x reader) ❤️‍🔥💕

But Home Is Nowhere by @mirandasidefics 💔📚📖 (endgame pairing undetermined)(Ruhn, Azriel, Lucien)

Lucien x Reader by @gothicbabydollz ❤️‍🔥

Care for you by @shallyne 💕(Feyre x Lucien)

About Last Night By @readychilledwine ❤️‍🔥

Nothing But A Curse by @stormhearty 💔💔💔

Coming soon

The Dilemma by @shadowdaddies (Az & Cas present) ❤️‍🔥

Happiness in the heart by @munsons-hellfire 💔💕

Love and Lust by @surielstea ❤️‍🔥💕

Gust & Flame by @invisibleanonymousmonsters 💔💕📚📖

Remember Me by @thelov3lybookworm 💔💕📚📖

The Fox and The Fawn by @utterlyotterlyx 📚📖

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanons #acotar imagines #acotar series #acotar smut #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #Azriel Smut #Rhysand Smut #Cassian Smut #Lucien Smut #Eris Smut #Bat Boys #Bat Boys Smut #Azriel x Reader #Rhysand x Reader #Cassian Reader #Nesta x Reader #Lucien x Reader #Eris x Reader #Bat Boys x Reader #feyre archeron #Feyre x reader #feysand #Feysand x reader #nessian x reader

[rarephloxes]

i want bloodsoaked elain but not in a ‘she’s a warrior’ way but in a ‘harried, talented healer overworked in the frontlines” kind of way

#elain is not a soldier pass it on #she could have a little murderous moment as a treat #but i mean TREAT #like a side dish #like an au #but real life #IN MY OPINION #elain is a healer of all things #let her BE KIND #let her BE GOOD #let her be moved by kindness and goodness and beauty #elucien #elain archeron

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Part Two

Azriel wakes to find himself with everything he'd never allowed himself to wish for. Now, faced with the reality of all he thought he wanted, he must come to terms with his desires and the unexpected direction his life had taken.

Word count - 3564

A/N - Thank you all so much for reading the first part of my little story and for all the lovely comments and words of encouragement. I'm still learning how to post and interact on here, a few people asked to be added to a taglist which I've tried to create but I'm not sure if it actually works.

Part One ☪ Part Three

Forgotten Universe: Pretty Eyes

Azriel

Azriel was still under Madja’s knurled fingers as they palpated his temples, the soothing chill of her healing magic drifted over tender, swollen skin. Her copper eyes assessed his face closely and he schooled his features into a blank mask. His gaze drifted over the curve of her shoulder to meet Rhys as he lingered by the open doors of the balcony. The bland smile, the loose set of his shoulders, and the hands that hung casually in the pockets of his trousers irked Azriel. After so many years it wasn’t difficult to read this feigned nonchalance, the worry it masked beneath.

“A lingering effect of the head injury, exacerbated by the bloodsbane.” Madja’s fingers continued to probe as Azriel returned his attention to her. Thickness lingered on his tongue; left over from the medication she’d administered on her arrival to reign in his fever. His head felt clearer now, where his shadows had been silent before they sang again, murmuring of the almost imperceptible anxious shift of Rhys’ weight on the floorboards. Elsewhere the House of Wind was quiet and empty, Elain having fled into Rhys’ arms with a demand to be winnowed home without sparing a glance in his direction. Azriel had been left to stew in solitude until his brother had returned with the ancient healer tucked in his arms, greying spindrift hair windswept, her face lined with wrinkles and kind concern.

“Some amnesia isn’t uncommon with an injury like this,” Madja continued finally pulling her hands away from his face. “Though to ascertain its true extent you must tell us what you remember shadow-singer.” She retreated from him into the chair Elain had occupied earlier, righted by Rhys, and slowly lowered herself on creaking joints. Azriel balked a little under the attention as he tried to force himself to recollect. Pain brewed between his eyes. He remembered the visit to Hewn City, the scheming; the gifting of Nesta’s made blade to Eris. He remembered the solstice party, the disaster of his foray with Elain afterward, and his brother’s wrath. The ensuing weeks had been busy, his mornings occupied with training the Valkyries and concocting obstacle courses modeled after the Blood Rite qualifier. The afternoons and evenings spent keeping tabs on Eris and following up on the dead leads from whispers and fables of high-fae women bearing winged babes. Everything after was hazy, difficult to hold, and worsened the pain in his head if he tried to focus for too long.

“Feyre,” he said, and Rhys cocked an eyebrow, his face encouraging him to continue. “We were following leads on the delivery of winged babes.” The darkening of Rhys’ features filled Azriel with a sense of foreboding. “Feyre,” he continued, “is she…Is the babe...” He trailed off, unsure of how to broach the topic. Rhys’ features softened, understanding his brother had misinterpreted the emotion to be driven by his grief and loss and not for the male before him. Shoulders pulled forward in a rare display of vulnerability, scarred fingers clasping his knees for stability, Rhys struggled to recall a recent memory of seeing his brother so open, so vulnerable. He hadn’t seen him this lost since their youth in the war camps.

“Feyre,” Rhy drawled, fixing Azriel with what he hoped was an abating expression. “And the babe, we named him Nyx, they’re both well. Perfect.” Rhys watched his brother process the information, the small twitch of the corner of his mouth the only sign of his surprise. Watched as Azriel came to terms with the missing months in the timeline, Feyre still had half of her pregnancy to go during the solstice. How would he even begin to broach the missing years? “You don’t remember anything about the attack?” Rhys probed, Azriel bristled under the line of questioning.

“No.” His fingers danced over his injured abdomen and trailed the bandages before climbing up to rub over the empty feeling in his chest, worse than any wound he’d ever gotten. It left him feeling cold and empty. The glint of his rings caught his eye. The signet on his little finger embossed with the Night Court symbol, a gift from Rhys centuries ago declaring him part of his found family, rubbed against an unfamiliar band of gold.

Feyre

Feyre locked eyes with Nuala as she crouched over Nyx playing with his toys on the carpet. The shadow-wraith stepped silently over to them and greeted the young heir to the Night Court with a small smile, producing a plate of homemade biscuits warm from the oven and smelling of cinnamon. Nyx fixed her with his cerulean eyes and toothy smile, cheeks chubby from the lingering fat of youth. Reaching out to fist the crumbling treat in one hand he thanked her, proceeding to get more crumbs in the creases of his clothes than he did in his mouth. Feyre’s heart swelled.

“I’ll be back soon,” she reached out to stroke his midnight hair as his arms waved, one brandishing a small wooden figure and the other his half-eaten treat.

“Okay, mama.” His eyes were drawn to her briefly before he returned to his imaginary world, moving his wooden figure into position to conquer the high ground of his drawing table, covered in drying paint and charcoal pencils.

“You’ll behave for Nuala won’t you?” Nyx nodded eagerly in agreement and proceeded to clash the figurine in his hand against a triangle formation of his enemies with a sound of delight. Feyre rose, leaning close to thank the shadow-wraith on her way to the door. After taking an indulgent glance backward she stepped into the breach, winnowing to a familiar path on the outskirts of Velaris.

Well-manicured grass thick with morning dew poked through the paving stones Feyre stepped between on the way up to the front door. The lower level was in darkness, the windows blending into the dark stone and winding vines. The second level blazed, fae light seeping out of the floor-to-ceiling windows though Feyre saw no movement.

The dark wood of the door opened on a wind under her fist, poised to knock, and Feyre took the invitation to enter. The foyer offset the chill of the early morning air and she made a beeline towards the dark staircase. The open door allowed a beam of sunlight into the sitting area, dark with the curtains drawn, illuminating the comfortable leather chairs perched around the large fireplace.

Feyre eyed the portrait hanging above the mantle, a solstice gift to Azriel the year after his mating ceremony, her heart ached. Depicting the moment after the vows had been said and the food exchanged, hands clasped between them bound by thick dark ribbon, Feyre remembered agonizing for days over how to properly encapsulate onto the canvas the shared look of love and adoration. Feyre couldn’t imagine how you had coped over the last few days, in the last months of pregnancy sitting vigil at Azriel’s bedside wondering if he would wake up. Presumably elated to hear he had awake, only to find him in the arms of another woman, one with whom he shared such history.

Continuing up the stairs to the second floor Feyre followed the fae lights towards the front of the house. The door to the nursery was ajar and she stopped short of the threshold. Your back was to her, one hand tracing the soft carved wood of the bassinet Azriel had spent every spare moment painstakingly crafting. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air, leftover from a few weeks ago when the pair of you decorated the walls with murals of snow-capped mountains, lush forest greenery, and frolicking animals.

Suspended over the bassinet in a sea of miniature stars hung multicolored globes, each spinning on their invisible axis. The spiraling constellation, you’d called it a galaxy, held all the planets known to your people. Feyre wondered how many you’d seen in your trips across the stars as you reached up into the field of magic closest to you to trace your fingers over a small planet of russet brown cratered with darker swirls.

“Rhys told me what happened.” Feyre watched as you continued to agitate the floating sphere. You didn’t turn. She crept closer into the room, torn between giving you space and reaching out in comfort. She waited with bated breath to see if you would respond before continuing. “It’s the head injury, he doesn’t remember.”

“He had no idea who I was.” The hand that hung in the stars moved to cradle your abdomen. “He would’ve…” You trailed off. The posturing, the aggression, there was no doubt at that moment Azriel viewed you only as a threat, a stranger, someone who had invaded his home. That was not the male who had doted on you only a week before, hands cradling you gently as his lips brushed your soft skin singing low lullabies to your unborn babe.

“Elain was at the River House earlier,” Rhys had dropped her there with a rushed explanation before disappearing again. “She feels awful, she wanted to come and apologise.” Feyre wasn’t sure why she brought up Elain, as soon as the words were out of her mouth she realised she’d made a grave miscalculation.

“I don’t care what Elain wants right now Feyre.” The temperature in the room plummeted as you finally turned to look at her. For a moment the air in the room thinned and Feyre struggled against the pressure of the vacuum that forced her to exhale. As quickly as it came the atmosphere in the room returned to normal and she sucked in a shaky breath through her teeth.

“I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like that.” Feyre tried to keep her voice low and soothing, pinned under your gaze as she edged closer, reaching out to place an open palm on your arm. “Madja’s with him now, she says that all this is to be expected. When Rhys spoke to her earlier she said these things usually resolve themselves with time.” Your thumb traced gentle circles on your swollen belly.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little short on that right now.” The anger in your tone was undermined by the tears threatening to spill. Realising there wasn’t anything she could say Feyre moved to pull your body against her own. Arms encircling you in a comforting embrace, she rubbed her fingers between your shoulder blades. You moved to hold her back, resting your face in the space where her neck met her shoulder as you let the tears fall. “What am I going to do?” Your voice was thin and watery, in the time Feyre had known you she’d never heard you speak with so little conviction.

“We’re going to figure this out.” She pulled away slightly and clasped your face between her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I promise. You have all of us, you’re not alone in this. We’ll do everything we can for you, both of you.” Nodding you sniffed, pulling away. Feyre let you go as you turned your attention back out to the window, eying the gilded disc of the sun as it rose across the Valaris skyline.

“I’m heading to the House of Wind,” Feyre continued to observe you as you tracked the ascent. “Would you like to come?” You moved closer to the window. On the opposite side of the city you could see the grand mountain range and it’s carved residence. Through the morning mist blanketing the base a large, winged figure rose, angling to land on one of the balconies.

“I don’t think I can look at him right now.” Feyre acquiesced her desire to push you to come with her.

Azriel

After Madja had left Rhys with strict instructions regarding Azriel’s rehabilitation over the next couple of days, he’d supported his brother’s weight while they made slow progress to the bathroom. Azriel’s limbs felt stiff, uncharacteristically uncoordinated and he concentrated on remaining upright and shuffling one foot in front of the other.

Steam rose from the bath the House had prepared, swirling to meet the shadows that seeped down his arm as Azriel braced one hand on the edge of the tub. Using the other he edged the loose cotton trousers down over his thighs until they pooled at his feet. Fingers tugged at the cotton on his abdomen to find purchase, loosening and unwinding until the bandaging fell away to reveal an angry pink scar, jagged and stark against tanned skin.

“Want me to wash your back?” Rhys shot him a cheeky grin, but the mirth in his voice didn’t reach his eyes. Azriel appreciated the effort, this small attempt at normalcy. He shot his brother an obscene gesture before raising one leg to step into the tub, thigh muscles twitching as he shifted into the hot water. Using his arms to brace his weight he started to lower himself in, descending too quickly they struggled to hold him up causing a wave of bathwater to soak the floor. Azriel sunk under the warmth of the water, allowing it to soothe him.

“We’ll be in the dining room, come down when you’re ready.” His shadows had already informed him of Cassian and Nesta’s arrival, he assumed the rest of his family wouldn’t be far behind. Azriel nodded, avoiding Rhys’ gaze, pretending to study the shadows roiling over the water. In the mirror on the opposite wall, Azriel watched Rhys’ reflection as he opened his mouth as if to speak, no sound coming out as he considered, before closing it again and disappearing through the doorway.

Dressing had been an arduous process, though no longer stiff and painful his muscles had a weakness that he wasn’t used to. After struggling into the tight second skin of his fighting leathers he felt more himself. Finding truth-teller laid out in its holster on the dresser he strapped it to his thigh. His shadows, now a fuller cohort with the effects of the bloodbane leaving his system, were a thick tangle of moving darkness, sour and agitated in solidarity with their master.

Despite his interrogation, they hadn’t offered him any useful information, it caused Azriel great frustration when they took the stance of purposeful vagueness or outright ignored him. He sent them ahead down the corridor to scout out the dining room only to be turned around by a shield of impenetrable night. Whatever conversations were going on in that room, Rhys did not want him privy to them. His own family, keeping secrets. It left a bad taste in Azriel’s mouth, a sense of betrayal in his chest that sat next to the empty feeling he was growing accustomed to, a limb he didn’t know he had until it was missing.

Azriel reached the closed door, the thick night dissipating as he progressed, the sound from beyond the door returned but he heard no voices. Just the sound of breathing and the clink of porcelain as someone set a cup on a saucer. Rhys must have informed them of his impending arrival. He pushed the door open and took in his family.

Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, Feyre and Amren all sat at the table which had been used for family dinners before the River House was built. Their faces were carefully blank as he assessed them all. Mor was notably absent, information Azriel tucked away, either her efforts across the continent were still ongoing or some other manner of business had her attention. He hadn’t expected to see Elain, not after her spectacular display of anger, but he couldn’t help the feeling of unease and disappointment it left in his gut.

“Finally, the invalid graces us with his presence. Took you long enough,” Cassian sent him an easy grin, arms folded across his stomach as he lounged in his chair. Azriel scowled in response which only made his brother’s smile wider. This had always been Cassian’s modus operadi, an invitation to be provoked into a physical outlet if that’s what was needed, thinly veiled under jibes he rarely meant at heart. For a moment, Azriel considered taking up the unspoken offer, if only to delay what was undoubtedly going to be an uncomfortable conversation.    

“Azriel,” it was Feyre who spoke, offering him a small smile, “Why don’t you join us?” Azriel understood that it wasn’t an invitation and slid into the seat next to Amren. His eyes met Nesta’s who sat across from him. They’d reached a tentative understanding, perhaps it could be considered a friendship, in the months he could recall. He remembered her joy at receiving the solstice gift he’d gotten for her, the resulting rare display of physical affection.

Looking at her now, face resolute and stony with blazing anger behind her eyes, barely contained, he had the sense that something had damaged the dynamic between them. He purposely looked away, instead fixing his eyes on Rhys; then Feyre. He waited for someone to speak, break the almost oppressive silence. He half-expected it to be Cassian again, with some throwaway comment or badly timed joke, but it was Rhys who cleared his throat.

“Azriel, thank you for joining us.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at the formality but stayed silent. “There are some matters we need to discuss.”

“Clearly.” He trailed his eyes over his family again, they all seemed uncomfortable to be here, to be around him. As if they knew he was going to react badly to whatever they were going to say. Rhys let his remark go, seeming resolute to power ahead with the conversation.

“What you showed me of your recent memories,” he continued, eyes drifting to Feyre who gave him an encouraging smile. “Lead us to believe that the memory loss is more extensive than we originally feared. Azriel, what you showed me – it was more than five years ago.” Azriel barely seemed to move under the scrutiny of their gazes. He’d lost years of his life. In the grand scheme of his immortality it felt like nothing, but looking at his family and realising that they lived in a future he didn’t remember left him feeling sick.

Azriel tried to find some rational thought to hold onto as he spiralled. He fell back onto the only thing he could rely on, his role as the Night Court’s spymaster. “Was it the work of the Queens? The attack?”

“The debacle on the continent has been resolved, for the most part. It was only supposed to be a routine investigation, nothing too strenuous or time-consuming given your current…” Rhys paused. “Situation. You were gathering information on some remaining rebellious factions, we didn’t anticipate that you would meet that kind of resistance, that they would have the resources. We’re sorry Az, we never meant for any of this to happen.”

“And what exactly is my current situation, Rhysand? What do you have to apologise for?” Azriel’s voice was low and dangerous. Amren snorted at the display, reaching for her wine glass. He expected a scathing remark, but it never came as Rhys shot her a look, and in a rare moment of deference she adhered as he implored her to remain silent.

“The female that was in the house earlier-“

“The thief.” Azriel interrupted.

“No,” Feyre cut in before Rhys could continue. “Her name is Y/N, and she’s your mate Az. The situation,” Feyre seemed to find describing it as such distasteful, but she continued. “Is that she is pregnant, with your child. That’s why we’re sorry, if we knew how dangerous it would be we never would have asked you to go alone.”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Three brothers for three sisters, that was what Azriel had always thought about, always dreamed. The cauldron blessing him with undeniable proof that, though not blood-related, he and his brothers were three equal parts in the eyes of fate. He’d wanted that, seeing how happy they were in their relationships filled him with bone-deep envy. Observing from the sidelines as Rhys and Feyre prepared for the new addition to their family with vigour, as Cassian and Nesta had danced around each other in slowly shrinking circles. The other halves of their souls. That should have been him and Elain, never mind the mockery of the bond Vanserra thought they had. Azriel knew it was a mistake, a sick joke that would all work out in the end because there was no other way it could be. Three brothers for three sisters.

He wanted it all. A house on the outskirts of the city, filled with the sweet scent of Elain’s baking and made beautiful by the flowers she cultivated in their gardens. Filled with sunlight and happiness, somewhere to retreat from the darkest corners of his life. He’d dreamed of that life in the secret hours of the dawn, of a future where the issues of Feyre’s pregnancy had been resolved and perhaps their home was filled with the noise of children.

Now he had awoken in a future where he had those things, a mate, an unborn babe on the way, only to find it wasn’t with whom he desired. Elain, whom he had woken in this world for, who had been so tender in his first moments of consciousness, who had kissed him back. Azriel couldn’t imagine choosing to build that life with anyone else.   

A/N - Phew! I know, the angst was real. I promise it will get better, but there's definitely a long way to go here! Part three is in the works, not sure when it will be finished but hopefully it won't be too long.

Tag list: @kalulakunundrum @impossibelle @we-were-beautiful @going-through-shit @mulansaucey @sv0430 @naturakaashi @amygdtjhddzvb @airstrip-0 @acourtofsmutandstarlight @myheartfollower @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @valencia-rou @amysangel @furiousbooklover @phoenixgurl030 @imnotsiriusyouare @i-am-infinite

#azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #elain x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar series #acotar x reader

[readychilledwine]

Slow Hands

Azriel x Vanserra Oc

Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.

Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.

Word count- 2,639

Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.

Part Two

Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.

The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"

Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."

Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.

"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.

Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"

"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.

All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."

He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."

Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.

Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?

You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.

She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.

He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.

"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.

Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"

"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.

Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.

"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.

Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.

She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."

Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."

"I can sto-"

"Please, do not stop."

Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.

"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"

Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.

Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.

Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."

"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.

"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.

Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"

"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."

His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.

Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.

Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.

Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.

"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.

Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.

Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.

He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.

She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.

A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.

"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.

She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.

He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.

She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.

It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.

Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.

She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.

"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."

Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.

"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."

He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.

"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."

Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."

Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."

#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar